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#( and you’ll sit there on his death bed. wondering why did things end up like this? )
pastel-rights · 1 month
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And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.
#ringmaster doodles#sona art#( they’re very much the theme of. love in the face of the neverending march of time. )#( being immortal and knowing you will outlive the man you love because someone else deemed he unworthy of eternal life. )#( he may still have tens of thousands of years left. sure. but you know that those will go by and he’ll disappear in the blink of an eye. )#( and you’ll sit there on his death bed. wondering why did things end up like this? )#( wondering what you did wrong. and if you could have done something different. you’ll always ask yourself. )#( if he lives a life of happiness and comfort or did he live a life as gruesome and miserable as the wars on earth? but you won’t know. )#( and the more you think about it. the more you realize it. how nihilistic he was. and how he never seemed to smile even in the good times.#he always seemed to have a frown or a scowl on his face. he always seems bothered and unhappy. )#( so you wonder if it was something you did. because you know you aren’t perfect. you’re hardly good. )#( you wonder if he’s mad at you. maybe he was. but he doesn’t have the heart to stay mad. )#( and that’s love in the face of adversity. knowing that no matter how bad it gets. he loves you as you love him. )#( and you wonder why he never smiles. because he truly never does. and so you ask him. honest and true. )#( and he tells you there isn’t anything worth smiling for. nothing in this whole world. )#( but he smiles at you. it’s always small. and it’s always brief. )#( but that smile. that smile means love. )#( that hug. as flimsy as it may be. that hug means love. )#( of course. he isn’t affectionate. if anything. he detests it. he hates physical contact of any kind. you’ve noticed. )#( which is a shame. you love your hugs and your kisses and your hand holding. )#( but even if he doesn’t like it. he lets you do it. because it makes you happy. )#( and you learn that when you’re happy. he’s a little less miserable. )#( of course. not all love is equal. and not all love is fair. )#( the love from a lover and the love from the father can never equate to one another. )#( no one will love you in the same way a father or mother loves you. in the same manner. no one will ever love you the way I do. )#( because my love will remain with you. long after I disappear. )#( and as bitter as the idea of my own existence coming to an end is. knowing I did all of this for. essentially nothing. )#( that I’ve gone through all this pain and suffering and hardship just for it to all amount to nothing. for it to be fucking useless to try.#I get to die knowing that you’ll always love and be loved. and that’s enough for me… )#( … maybe there is something worth smiling for after all. )
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dahliamalfoy97 · 1 year
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ETERNALLY YOURS- Kokushibo x reader one shot
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Synopsis: this is an au where Kokushibo is still a demon but it’s more of a legend type thing and the villagers fear him because he steals girls at night and disappears with them. I’m not going to give too much away because I don’t want to spoil. You’ll just have to read below to find out what it’s about.
Warning: SMUT 18+ content, MDNI, kidnapping, mentions of murder and killing, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral sex, blowjob, penetration, praise kink, degradation kink, choking, blood, umm just explicit content so beware.
Word Count: 3,924
———-
They say he comes at night.
On the night of every full moon, the Demon of the Night will randomly kidnap a girl and that girl would never return. No one knew what this monster did with the girls he took but everyone had a feeling he either fed on them or killed them.
So everyone was terrified of him. Everyone except for you. You were curious of the man of legend. But you yourself wanted to be taken away from this place. You hated it here in your hometown. You hated the people. They had tormented you ever since your parents had died in a fire. You had been the survivor but you had been left with some gnarly scars specifically on your face. So you were often bullied and mocked for your appearance. Even the adults would take part in your torture. You hated everyone of them. And wished death would either come to them or to you. To save you from this never ending hell.
Since no one would take you in, you were left sleeping in a barn in a loft, up above the horses and cows. It often stunk and your clothes were always filthy and torn, but it was better than nothing. You often were able to sneak into the baths at night to avoid the townspeople. You had often wondered about running away from this hometown and starting a new life, but you were worried about how outsiders would see you. So you stayed.
It was a few minutes before midnight, the moon was full and brighter than ever. But tonight instead of it's usual white color, it was a deep red. You wondered if this would be your night. this had been a night you had definitely cleaned yourself for. For you didn't want to be filthy. You wanted to be ready for him.
Unable to sleep, you lie awake on the makeshift bed you had created from your clothes, staring out the window at the moon. Waiting.
Thirty minutes had passed and there was still no sign of the demon.
Suddenly, screaming fills the night outside. You get up to peak outside the window. Your eyes widen when you see the town in flames. You scramble up, and head down the ladder. You run outside but a hand grabs you, and you're yanked against the barn wall.
A tall figure has you pinned but you can make out the face because it's covered with a hood.
"Are you ready my love?" A deep low voice rumbles and you can't help but bite your lip.
"Are you him? The Demon of The Night?" You ask, desperately trying to get a look at what hid underneath the shadows of his hood.
"Yes, I've come to take you with me".
"Then please take me away."
Urgently, he scoops you in his arms, arms hooked underneath your legs, bridal style you are whisked away through what appears to be black mist. You cling tightly to him, not sure where he was taking you. But you didn't care.
He sets you down on what appears to be a bed in a darkly lit room. He sits beside you.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"Not you, dear one. You're the only one I don't want to kill. I want you to be mine, my queen."
You shake your head covering your face, "but why me? I'm ugly. A monster. Were the other girls not enough for you?"
Ripping your hands away from your face, He yanks his hood down and suddenly you're met with not one but 3 pairs of golden eyes, covered in deep red sclera. You reach out to touch his face, with is marred with reddish flame scar like mark decorating the left corner of his forehead stopping right above his ear and then he had some more on his right chin. You weren't disgusted. But merely curious. You were sure most people would be repulsed by such a face. But you- you found him beautiful. He had long black hair that cascaded into waves all the way past his waist.
"You're not ugly, you are gorgeous," he growls, "Compared to me you are everything this world doesn't deserve. Those girls causes you harm. That's why I kidnapped and killed them."
You gasp, eyes widening, "you killed them for me?"
He holds your hands in his letting you continue to map him with your hands, "you prayed for someone to save you from that hell of a town right? For someone to make them pay for hurting you every day?"
Again you're taken aback, "how did you know?"
He presses a kiss to your right hand, fire shoots into your entire soul, you didn't know why a demon made your soul soar. Him, out of all beings was the one to send shivers of warmth down your spine, the one to make your twos curl. But here you were out of breath from just the small gesture alone.
"I heard your prayer, dear one. I heard you calling for me. Do you believe in reincarnation?"
"Well it has to be possible if you are," you reply.
"You may not remember me from our previous lives. Because every time your memory is erased every time you are reborn. But you and I have been destined as soulmates for eternity. But since i am a demon and you are a mortal, life always seems to take you away from me. I can't die but you can. For I am not allowed to have a happy life for destroying so many. So it is my curse to always watch you die. But I am always finding a way to break this curse. But the only way to do that is for you to become a demon. With me."
"So why haven't I become one before?" You felt an immense pain in your gut even though you had no memory of your past lives with him. Something untethered bound you to him you could feel it in the way he touched your hand. There was an invisible string that connected your soul to his and you knew he was telling the truth. Your heart hurt to know he's been suffering this curse for so long.
"Because in your past lives you've had everything you've needed in your mortal life so you haven't wanted to become one. And something tragic always happens to you. So I've never had the chance-"
"Then take it now," you demand, "make me yours, Demon of the Night."
"Please, my name is Kokushibo, call me by my name, and you really want to bind your soul to mine forever and surrender your mortal life to me?"
"Please," you cry. "Please make me yours, Koku."
That's all he needs to cradle your face in his hands and to close the gap between you. You gasp when his hot demanding lips collide with yours ever so gently, yet all consuming at the same time. You move so you're straddling his lap. Legs booked around his waist as you cling to him in lotus like position. You wound your hands in his long hair, whimpering at how soft and silky it feels. He growls when you tug at his scalp, trying to pull him as close and the gentle rhythm is replaced with hungry, desperate one as you desperately try to press yourself even closer- as close as possibly could get your bodies with all the in between. You rock yourself against his hard length that's hidden underneath his purple kimono. You could tell he was massive with how heavy and hard he felt underneath you. You pull eagerly at his kimono wanting it off. But he pulls away.
"Not so fast dear one", he chuckles, his deep voice going straight to your core and you let out a whine. "I really need you to understand that once we do this, once we cross this line, there's no going back." His breath hovers above your exposed neck peaking through your flimsy shirt that did nothing to hide you since it was full of holes. You knew your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, just his mere presence was enough to turn you on.
"I know, I want this," you whisper, with determined fervor. "I may not remember my past lives with you, but something in my soul is tied to you and I know I can't live without you. So please let's not repeat the past.  Make me yours so we can be together forever."
"You're absolutely sure?"
You nod, "one hundred percent."
With no further hesitation, his mouth on yours again. This time with way more force than before. His hands reach up, ripping your shirt into shreds and discarding it's pieces on the ground. He takes them both in his large hands and fondles them, you arch and moan into his touch. Coming alive with every kneed and tweak. It felt like you were clay in his hands. For him to mold and break. To tear and piece back together. His lips left yours to leave hungry kisses along your neck. You felt sharp scrap along your skin as his fangs grazed it.  Nibbling on slightly enough to sting and leave a mark but not enough to make it bleed.
You were a mess in his lap, rocking and whimpering over his clothed member frantic for more of whatever he gave you.
"Please Koku, take me," you murmur in desperate pleas.
"Fuck, I already love hearing you beg for me," he rasps, against your skin. Nipping on your nipple, causing you to cry out.
He lets go of your breasts push you back on the bed, he towers over you, before leaning back down to kiss you again. He trails kisses down your body from your collarbone, down your stomach, his hands caressing running along your thighs, ripping the rest of fabric you wore off of you. Leaving you in just your panties, which were soaked already. His kisses move to your thighs, creating a path up to your center. Each kiss sending bolts of electrify. He pauses , hovering, over your clothed core. His gold irises glow in pride at the dampness of them. His index finger runs along the material.
"I can't wait to taste you, dear one. I can smell your sweet arousal from here and it makes me insatiable."
Immediately , he tears off your panties and wastes no time diving in, making you his own personal feast as he devours you with his mouth. His tongue swirling around your clit in delicious patterns. You grip his hair tugging him in deeper and eagerly grind on his face. Eliciting appreciative growls and hums that end you into overdrive with the vibrations.
"Shit, Koku, don't stop," you cry, head thrown back. Eyes shut. Immediately, you feel a sharp pain on your clit, your eyes blink open. Finding those golden eyes glaring at you in disapproval.
"Don't close your eyes," he growls, then he resumes, fûcking you with his mouth, as soon as he deems you wet enough, he inserts a finger. You whimper at the foreign feeling. For this was your first time.
"Koku," you murmur softly, "you should know I've never done this with anyone."
He stills immediately gold irises locking on yours with surprise, "you mean no one's ever touched you? You're a virgin?"
You shake your head, "no, you're my first."
He smirks, something feral brews in those eyes, "oh you have no idea how happy that makes me. That I'll be your first and I'll definitely be your last, and anyone who tries to look at you or even think about you. I'll kill them. You're mine, and mine only. You got that?"
You nod, tears forming in your eyes. For no one had ever wanted you. "I just can't believe you want me as yours. No one has. They've always said I'm ugly and that I'm a monster."
"Well those fuckers are wrong, they're the monsters. You are magnificent and absolutely beautiful," he growls, "you're a fûcking queen. A goddess meant to be worshipped. And that is what I'll do as your king and your mate I'm going to worship the fuck out of you."
You can't help but cry at this, you had never felt so desired. So wanted. Those cries turn into moans as he continues to eat your pussy, adding a second and third finger. Curling them around you to find your sweet spot. Once he does he begins fucking you mercilessly with his fingers. Stretching you out so good.
"You feel so good, Koku," you praise.
"No, you’re the one who feels exquisite," he grunts. With the combination of his praise and the rapid thrusts of his fingers, you feel yourself clenching around his fingers and coming undone.
You watch in a daze as he stands up sucking your juices off his fingers. He discards of his own clothes. Your jaw drops at how beautifully ripped he is. As if cut from marble. Every ridge and plane of his body was pure art. And his cock, it was massive. You immediately sat up and crawled to him, reaching out to grasp it but he stops you.
"You can do that another time ," he says. "Right now I need to be inside you. This night is all about making you feel good."
"But I want to make you feel good too," you beg.
"Making you feel good will make me feel good."
"Please," you demand again. "To thank you for saving me."
He grins, "okay. Since you beg so prettily."
You first reach up to touch his chest though, running your hands to feel the ridges of his chest. He inhales sharply. Feeling your warm touch against his. You truly were a miracle for his cold and dark heart. You press some kisses along his chest and down towards his awaiting cock. Which was standing hard and stiff against his stomach. You take it in your hands, gently stroking in. You didn't really know what you were doing, but something in you seemed to remember how to touch and please him. For he let out a groan of pleasure as you stroked his shaft. His cock much bigger than your hands. It was thick and girthy. Hot and heavy against your touch. Your thighs ached. You lean forward, running your tongue along his slit before sucking on his head slightly. Before licking along his shaft and along his underside. Humming in pleasure at his salty taste. You take him further into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to take him in as far as you go. Choking slightly when it reaches the back of your throat. You pull off only to take him again setting a rhythm of bobbing your head up and down, gripping his thighs as you continue to suck him off.
He grips your hair to tug it out of your face, deep moans fall from his lips, "you're doing so good, goddess. Your mouth feels so good around my cock."
Tears spring from your eyes the deeper you take him, saliva dripped from your mouth. But you didn't stop.
"Keep going", he urges, guiding your head helping you keep a steady rhythm. "Such a good girl. "
His grunts become more erratic and you reach to cup his balls, squeezing them lightly. But when you do that he pulls out.
"You do that and you're going to make me cum," he growls. "I don't want to cum yet, not until I'm inside that pretty pussy of yours."
Shortly he's pushing you down on the bed, pulling me towards the edge of the bed. Spreading my legs wide. He grips his cock, stroking it. "You don't know how long I've been aching to be inside you. To make you officially mine."
He takes his cock and runs it up and down along your slit. Mixing his precum and your arousal together. Before lining up with your entrance.
"Since it's your first time, let me know if it hurts. I'll try to be gentle at first. But it'll probably sting just a little. But I got you"
"I've taken worse in my life, Koku," you assure him, "I'm sure I can handle you just fine."
That's all the encouragement he needs, to begin pushing his tip inside you. And god, just his head alone was big. It stretched you out in ways you had never been stretched before. Your walls clenched around as he pushed his way through. The stretch was unfamiliar and was a little painful but it felt good the way he filled you up. The way you two were connected.
"Goddamn, you're so fucking tight," he growls.
At last he's fully seated inside of you, once you've adjusted to his size he slowly pulls out before slamming in again. He grips your waist in his hands as he begins pounding into you. You reach up to pull him down into a kiss, your moans mixing with his grunts.
"You are so fucking tight," he growls. "I love the way your pussy hugs my cock, as if it’s specifically made to take my cock and mine only. Desperate to be stretched by me and filled by me.”
You whimper at his dirty words for they only seemed to heighten your pleasure. He felt so good. Every inch and vein of his cock stretched you out so perfectly. Each thrust seeming to go deeper and deeper.
"That's right, make those pretty noises for me, let me hear how I make you feel."
He hooks your legs over his shoulders. This angle deeper than before.
"Fuck don't stop, Koku!" You cry.
"Trust me, I'm not planning on stopping any time soon."
Soon, all you can hear in the room is loud slapping of skin, and a series of moans and groans and you lose yourselves in the feeling of each other. Both you so wrapped in how each other felt. Not being able to get enough, not wanting separate. Your hands were on his back, nails digging as he pounded into you with such animalistic speed. His yellow eyes glowed with pleasure and love.
Even though it was your first time, it felt like you guys have been connected before. As if the feeling of him being inside you was awaking some of those lost memories.
When he hits your spot, you cry out, every thrust sending you into overdrive.
"So fucking gorgeous," he praises, "every inch of you deserves to be worshipped."
You can't help but fall apart at his words, "Koku- " you whimper,  "I'm going to cum. Mark me."
"With pleasure, my queen," with that his fangs find the skin of your neck and sink into your flesh. You cry out, the overwhelming sensation of his bite, his cock and his words is enough to send you crashing around him. Not soon after do you feel him releasing into you. You feel his hot cum filling you. "Look at how pretty you looks with my cum filling you up. You're so perfect for me, My Queen."
Feeling the adrenaline from the bite, you can feel the shift in your body as you can feel yourself beginning to change and all your memories come rushing back. You flip him over, so you're straddling him. You line him back up with your slit, before sinking back down onto him.
"'Now let me show you how much you deserve to be loved," you lean down to kiss him, biting his lip with your new fangs. You run your nails down his chest as you bounce up and down his shaft. This new position filled you up in new ways. It stretched you out even more deliciously. You looked down to see where you two were connected. Loving the sight. Then you meet his gold irises. "For you killed an entire village for me, and saved me. So now it's my turn to return the favor."
You quicken your pace, up and down. Swirling around his cock with your cunt. His moans become deeper. Your moans higher as his tip hits your spot.
"Take what you want, my Queen. I'm yours."
You can feel the pressure in your stomach building as you feel yourself clenching around him again. You slow your pace, to prolong the orgasm, wanting to make him cum first.
"Your cunt feels so good gripping me like this, you are so fucking perfect," he moans.
Sneaky bastard as he reaches in between to rub your clit, making you come undone again in instant. Feeling you tire, he starts thrusting up into you. Making you arch your back, and grip the sheets for purchase as he slowly but surely regains control. Flipping you back around so you're under him once again. Brutally slamming into you once more, this time his thrusts feel even deeper than before. The bed begins to creak underneath the constant movement.
"It's becoming too much," you cry out. But it's like he's lost all morality, as he's focused on bending and using you to his will.
"You can take it," he growls. "You'll take everything I give you," with that he sinks his fangs into you again and you cry out. Loving the mix of pain and pleasure. "Because you're mine for eternity now. So this body will become so used to my cock it won't be able to function without it."
"Koku," you sob, you cum again. immediately at the sight of your blood dripping from his fangs. The sight turning you on even more. "Give me everything you have."
His detaches his fangs from your neck. Shifts you once again, to where your stomach is pressed against the bed and your ass is forced upwards. He's slamming into you without any warning. He yanks your head up so it's pressed against his chest hammering into you over and over. You crane your neck and bring him in for another sloppy kiss.
He wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing lightly, causing your air to be cut off slightly and for your to tighten your walls around his cock even more. You loved how he was becoming more and more demonic. Not holding back a single ounce of remorse as he broke and mended you over and over.
“I’m going to cum again,” you cry.
“Do it,” he doesn’t stop his hard fast thrusts, “cum for me once more.”
“Cum with me this time,” you plead.
“God I love you,” he says.
“I love you too, Koku.“
Kokushibo lets out one last roar as you come together. He pulls out. And leaves for a moment only to come back with a wash cloth. Once he’s done, he lies down next to you, pulling you into him.
“Finally,” he says, give you a gentle kiss, “we’re officially together and nothing will ever separate us again.”
“I am eternally yours, Koku.”
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klausysworld · 1 year
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you can do a one-shot for yandere klaus mikaelson, where he walks into y/n's room (he doesn't kidnap her) every night and leaves her gifts and watches her sleep and even tells her about his day, and ends with a long statement of love.
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You’re my heart and soul.
Klaus had been visiting her each night for weeks. It was his new routine, terrorise the locals, be in the centre of a war zone, fight for his life, listen to low lives and how much they despised him, drain some lesser being of their blood, go home to clean himself up and then go see his girl.
He had already memorised her sleep schedule, but it wasn’t very relevant as he came far too deep into the night for her to still be awake. On the odd chance that she was he would have to wait in her house, hidden from her eyes as he awaited sleep to take her.
He knew that perhaps this wasn’t the best way to go about his love for her and he knew that if she were to see him, she may think him to be strange and he couldn’t have her being scared before he can even begin.
And so here he was again, walking through her front door after unlocking it with his own key that he had made for himself, coming to see her.
He quietly made his way up the stairs and into her bedroom, the curtains were closer covering the locked windows, at least the other creatures of the night had lower chance of getting inside, or humans breaking in. He knew how she locked the front and back doors, windows shut tight to keep her safer. He was grateful for that.
Klaus took his usual seat in her desk chair, bringing over to the edge of her bed to sit beside her. A few times he had dared to sit on the bed with her, only once or twice did he lay with her but she began to stir awake and he panicked, it wasn’t worth the risk.
So there he sat, leaning back so the chair stood on its back legs and his upper back and head rested against the wall. His hand held her lightly enough for her body not to react much, is anything her body reacted well to his touch, often squeezing his hand or even rubbing his skin with her thumb. Occasionally he wondered if she were really asleep, he somehow hoped she was secretly always awake, and loved him too, but then..if that were the case why hasn’t she come to him yet?
His other hand’s fingers drummed against his leg as he though it over before deciding to forget about it and look at her.
So delicate in her sleep. Such a peaceful expression, soft and gentle. Her hands smooth in his, lips slightly pouted in her sleep. Something his thumb would brush over them to help him imagine how they would feel on his.
“I have something for you tonight my love” he muttered while opening the little bag he had brought
Klaus often brought a gift. Mostly subtle things, a little plant that he was put on one of the window sills, a dream catcher on her wall, a new bracelet in her drawer, snacks in the cupboard, favourite ice-cream in the freezer, that book she wanted on her shelf. He did what he could to make her life better, even if she barely noticed.
Today he decided to make himself a little more visible for her. He had made her a painting, a painting of a younger her, it was her favourite photo of herself when she was a child and all happy and innocent although Klaus would argue she still very much was from what he had been able to gather.
He decided he would hang it on her bedroom wall, his initials lay on the corner of the artwork, a clue for her. He was nervous, yes, but excited.
“I do hope you’ll like it, it’s smaller than my other paintings of you at home but I didn’t want to overwhelm you, not yet” he explained. He put the painting aside on her desk before making a very cautious move to sit with her on the bed. His hand ever so lightly touching her hair, his lips upturning as she unconsciously hummed quietly at the contact.
“You wouldn’t have liked today. There was far too much death than i would normally have liked. I believe over the years i have captured far too many enemies for my own good, i worry what they would do if they were to find out about my love for you. I also worry they would see you the way i do, that you may leave me for another” his face slowly morphed into a frown as his fingers gently caressed her head, her soft breaths filled the air as he paused and studied her sleepy face
“I don’t think you would do that to me, i believe you love me nearly as much as i do you. Or at least you could..”
“..I’m sure that one day everything will be just fine, you’ll be in my arms with one of those gorgeous smiles on your face and telling me about your day.” He smiled at her as his fingers combed through her locks
“I dream of the day you declare your love for me back. To have you tell me your feelings and for you to wholeheartedly mean them. I hope for you to be happy with me and trusting” he whispered
“You know that i would never harm you, never. I would rather give my own life a thousand times over than watch you be in pain. I will protect you and your heart with my life. For i love you more than i ever thought it to be possible. Nobody has ever loved anyone the way i do you. All i hope is that one day you may say that too” slowly he leant down so his lips could hover over her face. A feather like kiss awarded to her cheek as a sign of his affection.
“You are my heart and soul” he uttered, another kiss, this time at the corner of her mouth.
“I love you very much” he promised before standing up. He silently put the chair back to it’s place. His feet carried him over to the wall opposite her bed and he hung up the painting he had created. He slowly made his way back out of the house, his heart swelled in the best of ways as he damn near skipped home.
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fandomfic-galore · 2 years
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You’re ours now sweetheart chapter two
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Get a head of tumblr by eight weeks here
Series warnings. smut, non-con, dubcon. Stockholm syndrome. Fingering. Humiliation. Voyeurism. Threesome, bondage, spanking, dark fic
Y/n didn’t know how long the car journey lasted, all she knew was it lasted far longer than she wanted it too.
The car came to a sudden halt and the bag was removed from y/n’s head. Blinking, it took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. Glancing next to her she noticed that Negan had left the car, he slammed the door which made y/n jump out her skin. Her car door was forced open and someone grabbed the top of her arm.
“Move it!” The blonde man screamed. Looking at his face y/n wondered what happened, half his face melted and she knew deep down that Negan had done it but why?
Y/n knees were weak as she tried to keep up with the group of men. She knew Daryl had been taken as well, and it made her blood boil. What was Negan’s end goal? Why had he taken both of them? Y/n knew that Negan always liked the way that Daryl fought and how fearless he was but her mind pondered why she was here.
Walking through an old factory that had been repurposed for people to live in, Y/n saw a canteen and people lining up with trays waiting for whatever food - that smelled like heaven - filled Y/n's nose. A hand grabbed the top of Y/n's arm, dragging her up some stairs and she became nervous as the blonde haired man walked faster and with purpose. Walking down a long corridor, the blonde haired man came to an abrupt stop as he opened a door, pushing Y/n into the room. The door slammed shut behind her and she heard the lock turn. She knew from that moment she would be left alone for a while.
Minutes seemed like hours and hours seemed days, just waiting for someone to tell her what was happening or give her some food or water, she had finally sat down from her pacing. Her nerves had not settled and her breathing had only just calmed down. The room reminded Y/n of the old days, the days where you don’t have to fight for your life because of walkers. There was a king sized bed with a small dresser either side and a black leather sofa underneath the window. Y/n didn’t want to sit on either the bed of the sofa and opted for the floor instead.
Her eyes became heavy as she sat and pondered about everything that had happened. She hoped Daryl was ok and she would see him again and he wasn’t locked away in a cell. She hoped that Rick was coming up with a plan to save both of them, but she knew that chance was slim. Rick hated Negan and was scared to death of him, of course he wouldn’t be able to come up with a plan.
The sound of the lock turning caught Y/n's attention, but she didn’t get up from her spot on the floor. She did lift her head up though, to slowly inspect the intruder.
“Y/n,” the all too familiar sound of Negan’s voice rang through Y/n ears. She shivered and she hoped it would be anyone but him. “You’re still awake I see” Negan stomped towards her and crouched down to her level making eye contact. He didn’t say anything for a minute, just took in the sight before him. “Wanna know something sweet cheeks” the nickname made Y/n want to vomit but she knew better. “You see Rick the dick didn’t have enough supplies for me this week, so I took his favourite thing. Daryl!” Negan’s grin grew across his face. “But…now this is a big but, I think Daryl has a thing for you so what better way to get him to obey me than to take you and…well you’ll see”
Panic started to wash over Y/n as she came to realise that the reason for her capture was to make Daryl listen to Negan, that meant Negan could, and probably would, do anything to Y/n. Y/n's breath caught in her throat and she felt the walls surrounding her cave in. Her heart beat so hard it could be felt through her chest. She was suffering from a headache, her head was spinning. All Y/n wanted was a way out but she knew that wasn’t an option especially if she wanted to keep Daryl safe.
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Fluttering her eyes open Y/n didn’t remember passing out from her panic attack. She was curled up in a ball and her whole body ached as she stretched. Lifting her head up slowly she looked out of the window. Darkness had now filled the sky, she didn’t want to have another panic attack, so Y/n tried her best to stay calm.
Getting up slowly she made her way to the door, she wanted to try her luck and she turned the handle. To her surprise it was open. Creeping out of the room Y/n tried to make as little noise as possible, walking down the familiar corridor, Y/n could smell food. She can’t remember the last time she had eaten a fully cooked meal. Thanks to Negan and his men, Alexandria was suffering and everyone was going hungry. Making her way down to the canteen, Y/n hesitated as she watched people line up and wait for food.
“Now there’s my sugar tits” the voice made Y/n skin crawl. The low rumble of his voice made it easy to identify the owner of the ridiculous nicknames. “Now sugar, you don’t need to wait in line, come with me” Negan wrapped an arm around Y/n's middle and she tried to resist but the thought of food made her weak. Leading her to the front of the line, the other people kneeled as soon as they saw Negan. It confused Y/n, how could someone hold this much power.
An hour had passed or what felt like an hour, and Y/n was truly stuffed. Meatballs and spaghetti was something that she had craved for years and finally she had a taste. Bear in mind it wasn't the best but it was still better than nothing.
“Now, in your room” Negan popped up “is a dress, tomorrow morning I want you to wear it. With the heels that have been provided. Do you understand?” It took a minute for Y/n to comprehend what was being said and frustration grew on Negan’s face “well?” He questioned.
“I understand”
Taglist
Twd Everything. @hc-geralt-23
Everything @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @foxyjwls007 7 @xoxabs88xox
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cassyfarrar · 9 months
Text
Genetics are little gifts from our parents,
your mothers button nose,
Daddies thick hair, the freckles that dot your checks. The unique shape of your ears that curve in such a way.
And in conjunction with these we have family traditions, like ham on easter, driving up north every summer,
A kiss on the forehead when you say goodnight.
As we grow we make the decision to either keep alive family traditions, or we make our own way, stumbling forward re-writing the story bit by bit, Some things we will keep consciously or not, following the footsteps of those before us
like a good night's kiss you��ll tenderly keep but also realizing you never really liked ham that much, so perhaps you'll serve turkey instead.
But some family heirlooms passed down cannot be escaped,
Like sounding like your father when your temper is lost on a broken plate,
Feeling like your lightweight mother when you finish your beer.
But where does one go when genetics and family tradition has both gifted you hereditary suicide?
It was the way of your father and the father before him, leaving a void in family scrapbooks, and being an elephant suffocating the room in every family gathering.
It's like the christmas gift of fuzzy slippers that aren’t even your size but they haunt you by sitting at the bottom your closet, you know you don’t want to wear them but no one give you the receipt
How do you build a legacy on a family that never gave you solid ground, it feels like you’re standing upon quicksand, there is no hero to hold on to, no standard. No role model of the loving family man
Instead The patriarch left his family decapitated as he earnestly kept the tradition alive by repeating what his father did before him.
And I have this grand epiphany that i cannot make the man proud by accomplishing his goals when his greatest goal in life was to lose his
So, when I have come to the fork in the road, glaring at me, asking if I will choose life or death.
The greater black or simplier white,
it simply not enough that I choose to kill such a tradition, I must take pride in making the choices i know he never did
I repeat it again and again
I repeat it when I visit my psychiatrist, her shopping list of temporary fixes and some stability that I can find in a bottle, we cross off another from the list. I take it home in a tiny orange jar pretending each pill is a small piece of hope as i swallow it down nightly reminding myself with each sip water to wash it down
“I’m making the choices you never did”
I repeat it when it seems impossible to leave my bed, almost if my pain has me eternally bound but instead i get up and start the car to meet a
friend over coffee, knowing it would have been easier to borrow away, to be the shut in,never let anyone know how i am suffering, but rather instead i chose to laugh with a friend
“I’m making the choices you never did”
I repeat it when I choose another self-help book from the shelf at the bookstore, and I try not to feel weirdly embarrassed when the shop clerk bags it.
I wonder if they notice the dark circles under my eyes and feel worried for me, a just wayford stranger.
“I’m making the choices you never did”
And i repeat it over and over when i just want to be sedated by something, a temporary fix, something to lean against like a crutch, something to put me to sleep like a sick lullaby
But with all my willpower I have left, the wine bottle stays in its place upon the top of my fridge.
I nearly scream “I’m making the choices you never did”
I repeat it when the tears will not stop, as if the floodgates where destroyed,
And I cannot convince myself of any good, and at the moment I believe the sun will not come up tomorrow, I am powerless and I'm at my wits end.
And I truly began to understand why you sought the meets to an end that was final, for a moment I felt empathy for you but instead, I put my weapon against myself down. And in what feels like a violent scream but was rather a groggy whisper for help I call that famous hotline, and woman with a soothing mature voice reminds me on the other end of the line ““you’re making the choices he never did”
I repeat it when i walk through the doors of the emergency room,
Feeling a tinge of guilt that my emergency wasn't one of a physical sense like the others in the room but rather of deep emotional turmoil from a brain wired differently that passed down to me. I don’t even feel the needles pierce my skin as they fit me for an iv,
And they ask me to strip off my clothes and become naked in the cold sterile room. I think about how it parallels how vulnerable I feel. A team of nurses and doctors who cycle in and out my room ironcily are there to keep me from my greatest threat,
Me.
just like you where you own greatest emieny, and when they draw another vile blood from my sore arms I clench my eyes shut and whisper
“I’m making the choices you never did”
And
Someday I'll repeat it like a pledge, oath. a sincere promise.
When i have a child of my very own and their tiny hand presses against mine, I’ll make sure with every ounce of my being that they will never know the pain of having a parent didn't want them,
They'll never know the knife in their back of betrayal of abandonment
I’ll refuse to be a coward, I won't run away from the responsibility of parenthood instead dive head first into it with the decision to make the choices you never did.
So, when it comes to family tradition I don’t just rewrite the book, I have decided to close it.
It ends with me, I won't just never follow your footsteps, I will make my own in the opposite direction. The apple didn’t just fall far from the tree, it never even grew there
And maybe i cropped off the block and perhaps we are cut from the same cloth but i am sowing
myself into something new, I am becoming something unrecognizable from your blueprint.
I am choosing the value of true autonomy cutting these family ties.
I am evolving, I am in every way changing. Transforming.
And this mantra that I scream in my soul, it's simply not just enough to never make the choices you did i am making the choices you did not”
And in a radical moment of true self love and utter defiance of those who came before me.
I am making the choice you simply could not
I chose to stay.
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primofate · 3 years
Text
Request Continuation - Shortfic
Scenario: You got injured Part 2
Characters: gn! reader x Zhongli
Part 1 with Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe
Part 3 with Xiao
Warnings: angst, injury, no character death though, not proofread
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Zhongli
Time is surely something that Zhongli was accustomed to. Having lived for so long, he had learned how to take everything in stride, enjoy the every day motions: people passing by, merchants coming and going, the city’s lights dimming as the sun rose. 
All these were normal to him. Heck, sometimes he already knew what was going to happen. He’d observed this city for a long time, and knew the ins and outs of it. Its secrets, its traditions, how it had changed and how it had continued to flourish. 
You came into his life like sudden fireworks, like Liyue was born anew and suddenly his routine had been skewed in so many different but beautiful ways. Mornings were his favourite. Without fail, you would show up at his doorstep, bringing fresh flowers and herbs for tea, the ones that he liked the best. You had figured out his tastes, how could you not when the routine had been going on for 423 days? 423 days you showed up every day. 423 days of him anticipating your arrival. 423 days of you eager to greet him as you try to calm your giddiness and excitement...but on the 424th day...
You didn’t show up.
To say that Zhongli’s worry was at its peak was an understatement. When you were an hour late he had opted to wait outside the door, perhaps he’d catch a glimpse of you there, running a little late. By the second hour he knows that somethings wrong, and sets out to look for you. He knows your usual flower gathering place and he curses himself for not going out earlier. 
It was a big field, stray flowers here and there, hiding behind stones and resting under trees. As he walked through the clearing he sees it. Your familiar h/c tuft of hair, flat on the ground, flowers strewn around you as if they were actually FOR you. Fear strikes him like lightning hits the ground, sparks flying everywhere. He runs, reaching you in record time, fearing what he would see when he turns you over to your front. 
“Y/N!” he lets out, touching your arm to gently pull you forward. His heart freezes, there’s an arrow embedded deep in your shoulder and his hand was stained with your blood. “Y/N...” He doesn’t remember how long ago since he felt fear this crippling, it was a foreign emotion and he scrambles to think about what he should do. He picks you up in his arms, and runs towards Liyue, no... there’s a small hut nearby and he knew that the granny living there was a proficient healer, he redirects his route, mind running faster than his feet, trying to look for the best solutions.
Damn it, he hadn’t even checked if you were breathing...he just...BELIEVED you were. He wouldn’t accept any other outcome. You were going to be fine. You HAD to be. He so desperately needed you to be. 
He bursts through the hut door rather disrespectfully, panting, sweat sticking to his forehead. “Please...” He clutches on to your form, as if afraid you’d lift up into the heavens. “Please, help them,” for him to be reduced to a begging archon was probably a sight to behold. The granny works on you immediately, asking for you to be placed on the only bed in the house and ushers Zhongli out.
Zhongli lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. What was happening? Why was his world suddenly unfamiliar and gloomy and melting down? Why could he not process anything, not the cool breeze, not the wonderful weather, not the chirping birds and not the warm sun on his face. Nothing of that. He couldn’t hear a thing and he couldn’t focus on anything.
He closes his eyes to calm himself, but his hand has the slightest tremble when he remembers your blood on his hand and his next thought...
Who did it?
The rage that consumes him is still not enough to rival his anxiety. Gods what would he do if everything stopped at the 423rd day? He doesn’t even recognize himself, the calm, collected person that he usually was, is not here. 
It seemed ages before the granny came out and said that you were going to be fine but needed to rest in the hut for a bit before attempting to be moved. 
“They’ll be fine, just lost a lot of blood, let them sleep before you take them home,”
And at that it’s as if the whole world starts to turn again. He sighs in relief and with it he starts to hear the birds, starts to feel the breeze, starts to appreciate the sun again. Grandma allows him in, and he stares down at your peaceful face, eyes moving down to look at your form, confirming the steady rise and fall of your chest. 
He lifts a hand to brush away the hair on your forehead, then leans in to kiss it. When you wake up, you’ll find that there’s tea on the table, the particular one that you like and you’ll find Zhongli sitting on a chair next to the bed. “How are you feeling?” eyes tracing your features for any sign of discomfort, pain. You sit up slightly, a piercing pain shooting up your shoulder and he immediately guides you back down. “Rest, don’t move too much,” and then he says something that surprises yet sends you into a dizzying spiral of happiness.
“Would you consider...living with me?” 
Because he doesn’t want a repeat of this. He doesn’t want to wake up in fear that you won’t come to him. He doesn’t want it to end on the 424th day or the 1000th or the 2000th. So, starting on the 425th day, the mornings were much more anticipated, being able to wake up next to you. 
Taglist:  @larkspyrr @outlet-0 @rim0na
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bumbleklee · 3 years
Note
HELLO!!! Can you do the reader that feels like a second choice for zhongli, kaeya, Childe, and xiao?
baby ur a shining star (cut for length + reader is gn)
zhongli
after hearing about guizhong and her relationship with zhongli, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach
you couldn't help but wonder if he was still in love with her and you were being used as a place holder to pass time
around the anniversary of her death, zhongli became distant from you and it sent you spiraling
for days, you didn't come out of your apartment and you weren't planning on it anytime soon until zhongli came by to see if you were still alive
He had a key to your apartment. You knew that - you gave it to him - and yet, you were still surprised when he sat down on the edge of your bed.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a large hand caress your shoulder over your duvet. "Zhongli?"
"Are you sick?" He asks instantly, reaching forward to touch your forehead. You lean out of his touch and sit up in bed, grasping the blanket still. You keep your gaze down.
"No," You say quietly.
"Then, where have you been?" He asks.
"Where have I been? Where have you been?" You demand, frowning. Zhongli had been more than distant to you over the past week. You could hardly see him for more than five minutes before he was rushing you away so he could take a walk through the forest alone. And he had cancelled your dates!
Zhongli frowned himself and looked away, "I apologize. I've had a lot on my mind."
"So have I," You say. You cross your arms, "Is there someone else?"
The words float of your mouth to carelessly and Zhongli looks taken aback. "Someone else? Of course not."
"What about Guizhong?"
There's a silence in the bedroom and Zhongli peers at your face for a moment. His expression is unreadable and you wish you hadn't spoken the words you did. Suddenly, his hand reaches out again and lands on yours this time.
"Y/N, Guizhong was a good friend of mine many years ago. I mourn for her passing but you are my future," He tells you, "Please understand that you are the only one I care for now."
kaeya
dating kaeya came with anxiety and worries
he was a very attractive man and his personality was more than flirty at times
it wasn't rare to see him shake off multiple women or men at the tavern or on the streets of mondstadt after they had drank a little too much
you knew he would never betray you, he loved you too much, but when you saw how much affection he received from strangers, your heart couldn't help but ache
You knew going out to the tavern with Kaeya would only end in an argument. He was by your side for no more than ten minutes before some Knights pulled him to their table. You clenched your jaw and sat at the bar alone, Diluc sending you a sympathetic smile.
Your eyes ghosted behind you often and the sight of a woman wrapping her arms around Kaeya's waist had you fuming silently. You gripped the glass in your hand and your feet moved on their own. You grabbed Kaeya by his arm and dragged his tipsy body out the door without a word.
"What did I do?" He slurred, "I wasn't done hanging out."
You gave Kaeya the silent treatment as you walked home and he lingered like a lost puppy behind you. When you both had changed into your pajamas and Kaeya tried to spoon you like he did every night, you pushed him away.
Dejected, Kaeya sat up. "What did I do?" He asked again, more sober this time.
"Why don't you go ask your girlfriend from the bar?" You snapped.
"Come on," Kaeya groaned, "We've talked about this. I can't control what other people do."
"I don't care."
You crossed your arms tightly and laid down in bed, your back facing Kaeya. You felt a familiar warm feeling in your chest and your bottom lip quivered slightly, your eyes filling with tears.
Kaeya's arms were around you the second he heard you sniffle. "What's the matter?" He asked seriously.
"You're not going to leave me, right?" You asked, spinning around in his arms.
He cocked an eyebrow at you, "What? Of course not." He leaned close to your face and pressed his nose against yours. "Is this what this is all about?"
You only nodded.
"I love you," Kaeya continued, "And no one, not even that lady from the tavern, is going to come between us. Got it?"
childe
when you first started dating childe, he made you promise that you understood that his work came first
and you did because, frankly, you didn't think you would ever be second choice to the duties of a fatui harbinger
but the more involved you became with childe, the more you realized that maybe you had bit off more you could chew
Childe had stood you up the second time that week. You waited at the Liyue Pavilion for over an hour until you realized he wasn't coming and went home, utterly devastated.
When he finally returned home to you, it was early in the morning and you were half asleep on the couch. The sound of him closing the door woke you up and you only frowned at him. Childe tried to reach over to you to give you a kiss but you peeled away from him.
"I'm sorry for not making it, Y/N," Childe began, "I just -"
"Got caught up with work," You finished.
He looked down at his shoes and you looked elsewhere too. This exact scenario was happening too often and you weren't sure how much you could take of it. And Childe seemed to have similar thoughts as he sat beside you on the couch.
"I'm really sorry," He tried again.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better, Ajax? Because it doesn't."
He clicked his tongue. "You're right," He said, "Listen, Y/N. I think we should end things before I really can't be there for you. Things are only picking up from here."
There was a silence. "Yeah," You agreed.
"You'll find a nice person one day that won't be so involved with what I do," He chides, "Anyone would be lucky enough to call you theirs."
You wanted that person to be Childe. Except, Childe was just like every other guy out there. He told you he loved you yet couldn't even make you his priority.
xiao
similar to childe, it isn't a person that makes you feel like second best
in xiao's case, it's his duties as the yaksha that bury worries deep in your heart
he's not around most nights and during the day, he's always on edge and distant
you've become accustom to his routine but you weren't sure how much more you could take of it
For once, Xiao stayed home with you at night. You had cooked dinner and even though Xiao hated mortal food, he shoved it down for you. The two of you stayed up to watch the sunrise on the roof and you fell asleep in his arms.
When you woke up in a cold sweat hours later, Xiao was gone. Your window was open, the wind rushing in, and you frowned deeply. You sat up in bed, rubbing your forehead. He couldn't even stay the night.
"Xiao..." You whispered into the night. "Xiao?"
In a second, your partner stood in front of the bed. "What's wrong?"
"You left me," You scowled, standing up to shut the window. Your feet stomped against the cold floor with too much emphasis. Xiao didn't respond so you snapped your eyes towards him. He was just staring at you. "Do you even love me anymore?"
He was taken aback by your words, "Huh? Of course I do."
"Then why don't you show it?" Your tone had fell drastically and you held back your tears.
Xiao was beside you in moments, his hands cradling your face gently. His eyes searched yours crazily and you felt the urge to pull away but refrained.
"I'm new at this," He whispered, "I'm trying."
You sighed, "Well, try harder."
He nodded, "I will."
Once you had vented a bit longer, Xiao lead you back to bed and wrapped his arms around you once again. When you woke up in the morning, you were throughly surprised to find him next to you still.
a/n sorry u break up in childes
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arminsleftnut · 3 years
Note
hi!! i’m so excited to see a blog that writes for death note, it’s become a recent hyperfixation of mine and i can’t find any good fics!!! 💗💗💗💗
could you provide some nsfw content for L? any is fine really, hc’s or a full drabble if you’d like!! i’m desperate for L content lol 💗💗
YES oh my god of course 💗💗 deathnote is one of mine too (i rewatch it like once a week) n L is my major comfort character. i did a kinda cross between a drabble and headcanons for this! I hope it’s what you were looking for <333
CONTENT WARNING: smut (MDNI, 18+), female-bodied reader (gender-neutral pronouns), fingering, begging, mild pain kink, overstimulation, L being .. himself and also mildly obsessive, voyeurism (read: L is a creep misa was right), slightest bit of dubcon if you squint, masturbation, pillow humping, dom!L and yes i will die on this hill, sub!reader, L is actually a little mean in this one, dacryphilia, thigh slapping, fluff at the end if you squint, let me know if i need to add more!
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i.
being physically intimate with L was something you never really considered when you first got together. you weren’t even sure sex was something that was on his radar; he had so many other things to think about, and physical pleasure seemed like something he didn’t pay any mind to.
and you were right— for the most part. it’s not something L ever stops to consider. it’s not that he’s necessarily disinterested, it’s just never been a priority. he usually just takes care of himself when the urge arises.
with you here, though, it’s different. he’s not alone anymore, and your own desires are something he assumes he needs to factor in, and as many times as you assure him that it’s completely okay if he doesn’t want to have sex, that you can take care of it yourself and it’s a nonissue, he’s still . . . curious.
he’s seen you before on the monitors; those times late at night when everyone else has gone to bed and you forget there’s cameras everywhere, that he can see everything you do. he watches you as you’re spread out on the shared bed he rarely sleeps in, slipping your fingers in and out of your little cunt, your mewls and soft whines carrying through the speakers and shooting straight to his cock. he wonders if it’s wrong to watch you like this, but even as he ponders if misa amane was correct, that he is a pervert, he still doesn’t tear his gaze away from the screen. there is the possibility you hadn’t forgotten about the cameras at all. perhaps you wanted him to see.
he doesn’t say anything, less to save you any possible embarrassment and more because he’s found that a subject is least genuine when they know they’re being observed. it’s human nature, he knows, to alter yourself beneath the lens of others, to hide, and he doesn’t want that. this is a side of you he hadn’t considered might exist— an obvious oversight, and one he aims to correct.
that was how L always was. he loves you, yes, you can say that confidently. but as quiet and soft-handed a man as he is, his love is not simple, nor is it gentle. like him, it’s invasive and relentless. it’s not uncommon for you to feel somewhat neglected, or that perhaps he forgets about you altogether, but he never does. in fact, it’s quite the opposite. you are just as much a fixation, a complex puzzle to be torn apart and examined as any case, and rarely does a minute go by in which he doesn’t think of you. it’s perhaps not as romantic as you might like, with his owlish gaze pinned on you whether through a monitor or when you’re sitting next to him, picking apart every detail, but you can’t say he doesn’t pay attention to you. sometimes, you think he pays too much.
when he finally touches you, it’s no different.
he watched for weeks before he broached the idea. the hours you spent trying to satisfy yourself, with your hand between your legs or rutting desperately against a pillow— yet you never seemed truly satisfied. it was obvious in your expression, face screwed up cutely in obvious distress, frustrated tears welling in your eyes and streaking prettily down your flushed cheeks. you could only ever take two of your own fingers, he noticed; you’d tried more a few times, seeming to find your own two small ones dissatisfactory, but you could never quite make it, leaving you in a painful limbo that always has you in a particularly sour mood the next time he speaks with you.
the more he watched, the more he realized how truly unsatisfied you were. one night, you spent thirty minutes rocking against your pillow, and despite the wetness that darkened your pretty panties, you eventually gave up, tossing the ruined pillow away from you with a small, frustrated shriek. he wondered why; and more still, why he suddenly found his own hand unsatisfying, and why he could only curve his own thoughts with ones of you on the monitor, spread out prettily.
it was horribly distracting, really. and with anything else, L had to make sense of it.
in the end, he ends up with more questions than answers.
it’s not his fault, really. it’s yours. you’re so fascinating to study, and so eager to let him learn. you’d been so utterly pliant as he pried your thighs apart, stuttering out reassurances that he didn’t have to do this, asking over and over if he was sure. he doesn’t bother to tell you that this wasn’t for you— he wouldn’t be able to think properly until he’d gotten his answers.
there’s none of the awkward hesitation you might’ve expected, no unsure fumbling of hands or knocking teeth. no, L is sure of this as he is anything else he studies, tearing it apart as he sees fit until he’s satisfied with the conclusion. you’re no different, and he’s just as relentless as he always is.
there’s a certain desperate edge to it when he touches you, like he’s trying to tear everything from you by force. he watches you squirm beneath him, mewling and pleading incoherently as the walls of your pretty cunt spasm around his fingers for what feels like the thousandth time (it would seem you can, in fact, take three), and the only thing he can think of is how many more you’ll be able to give him. surely this isn’t your breaking point? no, he knows better, that can’t possibly be it. you can take more, and he tells you so, deafened to your mindless babbling and choked sobs as you try to push him away.
it’s strange that you do that. you get so upset when he actually does pull away:
he has to pin your hands down eventually; clawing at him the way you are is only a hindrance, and it reduces his overall effectiveness significantly. fortunately, you seem to learn quickly, responding especially well to a sharp slap to your inner thigh. (he isn’t sure if it’s a carrot or a stick, given the way you clench around his fingers when he does it. regardless, it works, so he does it again).
it really only occurs to him to stop when your body seizes again, this time falling entirely limp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he might’ve worried, but your eyes flutter open only a few seconds later, and it’s then that he considers that you might be rather exhausted.
“are you alright?” his voice is quiet, hoarser than normal, and uncharacteristically gentle. he cocks his head at you, the puppy-like gesture such a stark contrast to the delightful hell he was inflicting on you only moments before that you can’t help but giggle tiredly.
at your assurance that you aren’t on the verge of collapse, not anymore at least, he takes time to clean you up, his touch feather-light and familiar in its softness. he lets you cling to him, winding his awkwardly long body around you in a sort of cradle, tucking your head beneath his chin.
he counts the minutes until you fall asleep, measuring your breaths against his own. as much as he enjoys tearing you apart to see what’s inside, there’s a strange satisfaction in putting you back together again.
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this is my first published smut i apologize in advance.
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tinyyoungblood · 3 years
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hi!! do you know that tiktok trend where the girl asks her bf if he can temporarily break up with her so she can be heartbroken when she listens to olivia rodrigo’s new album and the bf always says no? could you do that but with peter and avenger!reader? i don’t really know how the avengers play into that but i trust you to think of something great. love your work babes <3
pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader
word count: 2.7k
a/n: hey fren, tysm <3 i do know that trend, and it always warms my darn heart. you probably meant for this to be a headcanon but halfway through i realised that i was writing full sentences, so i just rolled with it bc i have no self-control lol enjoy x
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Peter, I need you to break up with me.”
Not a moment later, you heard a series of loud crashes and Peter stumbled out of the bathroom, hopping on one leg while fiddling with his zipper. “What did you just say?” His eyes were wild as they scanned your face.
“I need you to break up with me,” you repeated calmly, not taking your eyes off your laptop.
“Break up with you?” Peter echoed, hand raking through his hair in bewilderment. “Why would I do that? Do you want to break up?”
This made you look up. Peter was staring at you like you had just insulted his face, making it quite an effort to stay serious. “It’s just for 34 minutes and 46 seconds,” you assured. “So I can listen to Olivia Rodrigo’s new album.”
He blinked at you.
“What?”
“Please?” You set your laptop aside, shuffling to the end of the bed so you were sitting right in front of him. “I want to listen to it in full effect with a broken heart and everything.”
“I…” Peter slowly shook his head. A helpless laugh escaped him. “Um, no. Thank you.” He turned and made to return to the bathroom.
“Peter,” you whined and grabbed for his hand, pulling him to a halt.
“Sorry, angel.” He shrugged, supressing the faint tug at the corner of his mouth.
“Pleeeeaase.”
“Nope.”
You pouted. “We can break up when you train with Bucky! In that way you won’t even notice because you’ll be busy and distracted. I won’t even be on your mind.” You weren’t sure what you had said that made Peter stare at you like you were insane, but it took him a second to snap out of it.
He cupped your face with his hands and made sure to meet your eyes. “Babe, I think about you all the time.” He said it like it was a wish he wanted to word correctly. Slow and precise. Then he switched to a lighter tone that implied that he was done with the conversation. “I’m not breaking up with you.” With that he turned and left for the bathroom.
“Fine,” you called back although the water was already running and you doubted that Peter could hear you. And if he did, he probably didn’t care. You took that as your cue to leave. Defeated, you plucked your headphones into your phone and picked out a song of Olivia’s album at random.
Steve was lounging on the couch of the common room when you entered. He looked up from his magazine and gave you a small smile by way of greeting. You returned it by tapping two fingers at your temple in salute, ignoring the way how his stare lingered a little longer. You sat down next to him. When you locked eyes again, you saw the silent question on his face and let out a laugh. It ended up sounding more like a delightful scoff.
“I know Tony takes pride in being the philanthropist amongst us, but for someone who grew up in the ice age, you’re really good at reading people’s faces.” You wanted to annoy Steve, maybe even coax out a laugh, but he just kept looking at you, and you held his gaze. You were good at it—an aftereffect of living with Bucky who happened to love the same yoghurt as you did. Sometimes you put all western movies to shame with the way you narrowed your eyes at each other early in the morning in front of the fridge.
To your luck, Steve was just as stubborn, which meant that you two could’ve kept it going until death if it weren’t for the door banging open.
“I can’t believe you did this to me!” A voice boomed. You took a wild guess and assumed it was Clint.
“Tell me about it!” Another voice bellowed right back.
A second later, Sam and Clint marched into the room, furious, whereas Bucky strolled in behind them with no care in the world.
The former two were holding bags of food. Both were animated and waving their arms through the air while arguing. You turned down the volume of your phone in time to hear Steve demand, “What’s going on?”
Clint and Sam stared daggers at Bucky until Steve amended, “Buck, what did you do?”
The man in question turned around, facing his best friend in exasperation. “I asked these two to get food for me.” This earned him a snarl. Bucky waved them off and examined his metal arm, unconcerned. “Honestly, I have no idea why they’re getting so worked up about it.”
“We—” Sam gestured wildly between Clint and himself. “—were asked to pick up food for him from two different places. And neither of us knew about it!”
“Yes, neither of us knew,” Clint chimed in, eyes narrowing at Bucky who was busy flicking dust off his arm. “And I don’t know about you, Sam, but I was touched. I was moved, okay? Because Bucky never asks for anything and here I was, thinking we’re starting to bond or whatever but now I just feel USED.”
Sam gave a harsh sound in agreement.
“Bucky,” said Steve after no one had anything to add. “What do you have to say to that?”
Your gaze flitted between them, not sure what to expect. Bucky didn’t give any sign of wanting to respond, making you wonder if he had heard Cap at all. But then a slow smile swept over his lips and you noted that it was probably the most feline smile you’d ever seen. It was a smile storybook villains wore after burning down the world.
“The only thing I have to say is that I regret not having the moment they ran into each other in the elevator on video tape, because that—” He turned and looked Sam and Clint straight in the eye. “—was amazing.”
No one spoke.
“Ruthless,” you said under your breath and just like marionettes, the four men glanced you before another argument broke.
You took the chance to turn the volume back up. “happier” was playing and you settled further into the couch to watch the scene unfold. Sam was arguing so passionately that the vein on his neck was making an impressive appearance. Clint, on the other hand, had a palm pressed flat to his chest; his face showing pure betrayal. Bucky didn’t seem to care for the chaos. He tried multiple times to grab for the bags only for one of them to move out of his reach. When you glanced at Steve, you nearly lost it.
He was staring at them like his lifespan had just been reduced to ten years. He looked like he wanted to throw pebbles after them.
Nudging him with your arm, you silently handed him one of your earphones. He glanced at you and hesitated, probably thinking of the many times you had offered him a taste of blaring electronic music. You rolled your eyes and insisted again. This time, Steve took it and you watched in amusement as his brows rose in surprise.
“I like the piano,” he mouthed and glimpsed at the name of the song. You grinned.
In the meantime, Clint and Sam had decided to form an alliance. They had planted themselves in the opposite couch, digging into the contents of the brown bags while Bucky gawked at them from the other side of the room with his mouth ajar and heart ripped out of his chest. Shaking his head in disbelief, he let himself fall into the armchair facing them. He looked devastated. You weren’t sure if you had to stifle a laugh or tears.
Next to you, Steve chocked back a laugh. You quirked an eyebrow and considered him only to realise the reason behind his glee. Bucky was brooding in his seat while Sam and Clint did an excellence job on commenting every bite. Nothing has ever received as much praise as that pasta, and you were certain that if this were a cartoon, there would be rain clouds hovering above Bucky’s head. As if the angels had set it up themselves, you took notice of the lyrics.
I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me
I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go
So find someone great but don't find no one better
Bucky was pouting, poking the leather of his armchair with his finger while stealing glances at Sam and Clint. It was perfect. Steve slapped a hand on his chest and he tipped his head back, laughing.
I hope you're happy, I wish you all the best, really
Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me
And think of me fondly when your hands are on her
I hope you're happy, but don't be happier
You were both laughing hysterically. The others had stopped their on-going war to stare at the two of you; their expressions baffled. The song came to an end and Steve gave back your earphone, rubbing his eye as if wiping away a tear. He rose and walked over to Bucky, hurling him to his feet and putting an arm around his shoulders.
“Oh, Buck,” Steve said with a note of laughter in his voice. “There’s a song I need to show you.” You smiled as you watched them leave.
“Well, this was fun.” You pushed yourself off the couch and shook your head as Sam offered you some of his sushi. “Thanks, but I’m on a mission to get heartbroken.”
Leaving the men to their food, you wandered the halls and listened to “traitor” as you walked past Wanda’s room. Her door was open and you could see that Vision was in the middle of a chess game with Bruce and Wanda. By the looks of it, Vision was as good as winning and you reined the urge to cheer for him. You peaked around the door frame and saw that Vision had their king in check. Deep betrayal crossed Wanda’s face.
You chuckled quietly and whispered, “FRIDAY, play what I’m listening to right now through the speakers in Wanda’s room.” FRIDAY didn’t bother to respond but not a second later, the lyrics were blasting through her room and their heads snapped up in confusion.
Don't you dare forget about the way
You betrayed me
'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry
For the way I hurt, yeah
“Wanda?“ You heard Vision’s careful voice. “What is going on?”
Guess you didn't cheat
But you're still
You're still a traitor
“I’m not sure, but these lyrics aren’t wrong…You are a traitor.” Wanda narrowed her eyes at him, slowly bobbing her head to the music. Treason danced in her eyes. It was the beginning of a villain origin story.
“Maybe it’s a sign of God,” Bruce said and you almost burst out laughing.
God, I wish that you had thought this through
Before I went and fell in love with you
“Hell yeah!” Wanda yelled and this time you bolted down the hallway, wheezing. You dashed right into Tony’s lab and slammed the door.
“What are you on?” He looked up in amusement. You simply shook your head, laughter still bubbling over your lips.
“Just spreading love in this facility.” You waved your hand at nothing in particular and Tony nodded.
“Right, I heard you asked Peter to break up with you to listen to that one album? Very dramatic. I like it.”
“See.” You gestured at him, indicating that he was the only one who got it. “It’s a good album. Maybe you should ask Pepper to divorce you.”
Tony gave a humourless laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think she would come back if I asked her.”
“Yikes,” you mumbled and this time Tony’s laughed for real.
“So what? You’ve just been walking around waiting for heartbreak?” He turned back to whatever he was working on. You stepped closer to get a peek.
“Precisely.”
“Sounds tiring.”
“I’m powered by exhaustion” You handed him the wrench he needed. “Want a listen? I think there’s a song you might like.”
He contemplated the offer and lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sure, why not.” You couldn’t help but squeal. You knew that Tony probably didn’t care but sharing your music was always exciting.
Beaming, you removed your headphones and connected your phone to the speakers of Tony’s lab. The first tunes of “good 4 u” started playing and Tony tapped his foot to the beat, head bobbing just slightly. When the chorus hit, he stood up and you stepped back, thinking he wanted to headbang. Instead, he reached for a tool that was further away. You didn’t miss the way he moved his shoulders in a little dance move though.
“I like this one,” he said, and you flashed him a smile. You continued working on the suit, handing Tony things you knew he needed until you passed him a plier and he froze. You furrowed your brows, glanced at the tool you knew was the right one, and cocked your head in silent question.
Maybe I'm too emotional
Or maybe you never cared at all
Looking you straight in the eyes, he flung the plier over his shoulder, opened a drawer, and took out another plier to use on his suit. You gasped.
“How dare you,” you whispered in shock. Tony had the nerve to shrug.
“Enjoy your little heartbreak moment, Y/N.” He shooed you away like a cat. “FRIDAY, yank up the volume, would you.”
Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy
Not me, if you ever cared to ask
Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me
“Guys?” Peter’s voice was drowned out by the booming music. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching in amusement as you and Tony towered on the lab tables, using screwdrivers as provisional microphones. While Tony played a terrific air guitar, you sank dramatically to your knees and impressed the crowd with your air drumming skills.
“Guys?” Peter tried again, chuckling. This time you and Tony whipped around at the same time and pointed straight at Peter.
Like a damn sociopath
You threw your arms up in the air and spun in circles while Tony jumped into quite an impressive split leap.
I've lost my mind
I've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom
Just over the fact that I really don't get it
But I guess good for you
The song came to an end, and you leapt on Tony’s table to share a screwdriver with him as you sang the last lyrics together.
Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily
The song ended and all you could hear was heavy breathing. Peter began to clap. “This was great, you guys. Wow.”
You exchanged glances with Tony before making a show of bowing at the waist.
“So this is what happens when I refuse to break up with you?” Peter strolled over to where you sat on the lab table, positioning himself between your legs. Tony chuckled and jumped off to grab a water bottle from across the room.
“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that,” you said, just for the devil of it.
Peter smiled. “Cap and Bucky are crying over a song, Vision is sending Wanda flowers in ten-minute intervals, and you are down here having a rock concert with Tony.”
You gave him a toothy grin. “I was just feeling sour.”
* * *
stay hydrated pals
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yoongsisbae · 3 years
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Bon Voyage: Into the Sea - Chapter 3
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BTS fantasy AU. OT7 x reader. werewolf!Namjoon x werewolf!Hoseok x werewolf!Jungkook x siren!Yoongi x vampire!Jimin x vampire!Jin x whatis?Taehyung. This is the "vampire chapter" :'D
Thank you for all the love on this random nightmarish story lol. This extra update is for all the readers who made it my most popular post! Thank you! <3 Also this is my contribution to the start of the spooky season :D
Warnings: Hi, remember when I said this was horror? This chapter in particular is pretty horrific, you have been warned! blood, fighting between m/w, blood, graphic violence, blood, imprisonment, blood, blood, blood, minor character death, vampires doing vampire things including noncon blood drinking, human imprisonment, mind manipulation, stockholm syndrome, dubious consent, slut shaming, anal, degradation, foursome, orgasm control, orgasm denial, what a ride, you must be over 18 to ride this ride, scary scary scary
Word Count: 22k
---
“Scared, y/n?” Jimin’s face sends you a wicked smile.
You look back and forth between the men, uttering an unconvincing “No.”
Seokjin speaks again, “You should be.”
---
‘So did you get the answers you are looking for?’ You sit up, jolted out of your sleep, Hoseok’s words echoed softly in your mind.
Seokjin moved so fast, his striking face in front of you in an instant, his red eyes centimeters from yours, delicate lips curving into a smile over his fangs as water splayed around where he stood. That was the last thing you remember.
He smiled down at you sweetly and held you by the neck, putting pressure on your vein until you passed out. It all happened so fast your scream remained halted until this moment. The response came out of you abruptly, as fleeting as the memory.
And now where the hell were you? It looked like the room of an old bed and breakfast; large bed, writing desk, love seat, high windows; but to your captors the breakfast on the menu was you.
The first thing you notice is how the curtains are drawn together blocking the sunlight, but you know it’s there, just out of reach, as evidenced by the small line of light that trails its top edge. The room you found yourself in was dark, from the wallpaper to the furniture, the stillness unsettling, you listened as your own rapid breathing filled the silence.
You were seated right in the middle of a king size bed. They left you atop the cleanly-made white bed sheets, a treat placed in the center of a platter. You shiver, your clothes still remained damp from the night before, cold and stuck to your skin. That is why you shiver, you tell yourself, because you don’t hear them, but you feel them...watching you...
You build up enough courage to scan the room, and that’s when you see two pairs of red orbs staring back at you from the corners’ shadows, glowing in the darkness. Eyes of beasts, watching you, studying you.
You try not to react, not show your captors how scared you are, but every mechanism in your body betrays you, and the pair immediately pick up on your rapidly beating heart, the sweat on your brows, your unsteady breathing-
“Good morning, y/n,” Seokjin says, walking out of the shadows. Jimin stays hidden, but you can hear his soft laughter.
Those answers you wanted, where are they?
Seokjin slowly moves to the edge of the bed. “It seems like our friends have taken quite an interest with you and I want to find out why. Is that okay?”
You purse your lips, keeping your eyes trained on the thin strip of light showing at the top of the window curtains. You sit in silence. Has your breathing always been this loud? The shaking of Seokjin’s legs, a sign of his growing impatience, rattles the bed and your resolve.
He clasps his hands together, finally saying “If you don’t want to speak to me,” he leans in slightly and whispers the rest, “I can always let Jimin pry information out of you, but I don’t think you’d appreciate that very much.”
The pounding of your heart and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach makes you feel like you’re going to become sick at any minute, but you manage to form a coherent sentence to ask him, “What do you want to know?”
“First, I want your permission to find out,” he speaks softly, placing a gentle hand on your calf, but you flinch away anyways. That’s a loaded question if you ever heard one. You wonder if it’s all an act, the same way Jimin fooled you. You stay silent.
Seokjin sighs again, looking over his shoulder, “Jimin?”
“No!” you yell. “Not Jimin! You...you, okay I give you permission.”
“Thank you, y/n.” He smiles, “I’ll be gentle.”
You yelp. Seokjin’s cold hand travels down your leg, wraps around your ankle and pulls you down the bed closer to his body, and in an instant his lean frame is hovering over yours. This close, his beauty is intimidating alone, but his eyes feel like they are piercing through you, digging inside, seeing all the ugly secrets you try to hide from even yourself, you feel like you could catch fire the way his gaze burns you.
He holds you down loosely by the neck, fingers searching for a pulsing vein, eyes focused on you with the concentration of a doctor performing surgery. Seokjin wipes away the tears that begin spilling from your eyes and smirks, “Don’t cry Dove, I promise this time will be the least pain you’ll experience from now on.” His words are devoid of any real sympathy, a false comfort, a looming warning.
You consider fighting back, but in this position there is no way you would be able to reach for your dagger (hidden away in a secret pocket in the front of your corset) without Seokjin stopping you, and even if you were lucky enough, there’s still Jimin, waiting in the shadows.
So you choose to wait, and try to find comfort in Seokjin’s twisted words. It could be worse. A tiny voice inside you reminds you it will become worse. You’ll just have to escape before then. You take a deep steadying breath, preparing yourself.
Don’t cry.
Seokjin’s lips latch onto your neck, soft and full as he rolls his tongue harshly over your pulse point. Goosebumps bloom across your body, and you try to focus on the sunlight rather than the vampire above you and his overwhelming aura, that sliver of light that you pray won’t dim.
This could be worse. This could be more painful. This could be Jimin.
Seokjin can feel the jumping of your pulse against his tongue. The vampire wants to know your story, what is it about you that riled Jimin up more than he’s ever seen him. But with your sweet scent enveloping him and the cocktail of emotions Seokjin’s keen senses could smell: fear and anger and mounting arousal, you smelled better to him than the finest wine and he can’t stop himself from teasing you a little longer, drink it in just a bit more and savor the moment.
Seokjin still understood the importance of ‘living’ in the present, he enjoyed taking his time with things. Others would have gone mad by now with the infinite amount of time, but not Seokjin, he used it to his advantage. Your warm body, your addicting smell, the softness and saltiness of your skin, the shifts in your breathing, Seokjin took his time to savor the gifts of life that he still missed.
You try not to react to his sensual touches, tensing your body under him, until you feel two sharp pricks on the surface of your skin. Your reaction is involuntary, you grip the bedsheets with your fists and let out a soft cry, moving against him. His bite hurt for only a second, like a pin prick, but Seokjin in his precision had nicked an artery for optimum bloodshed. With each gasp of breath you take, with each pounding beat of your heart, you feel your blood drain as it escapes the punctures in your neck and into Seokjin’s waiting mouth.
Seokjin groans against your skin, sending fire through your veins, pressing himself harder into your body. The vampire is better at keeping his physical responses to blood drinking at bay than Jimin, but he hasn’t had a new taste in awhile, and you’re so responsive.
When he pulls away from you you reach to cover your neck and stop the blood, a reflex in an attempt to save your own life, but Seokjin grabs your wrists before you can, pinning you to the bed, studying, his red gaze challenging you.
You gasp as the blood rushes out down your neck, over the sheets, seeping into your clothes. ‘They’ll underestimate you...’ Yoongi’s words replay in your mind and you stay still. No matter how much you want to fight back, this time you have to be smarter, you have to believe in Yoongi’s words.
Jimin has stayed quiet for this long, staying in the shadows, but your whimpers and grunts of pain are music to Jimin’s ears, the blood pouring from your body like an offering to him. His groans can be heard from the shadows.
He holds himself back for now, waiting for his turn. Jimin wonders where all that fight went, he had expected a show, for you to thrash away from the older vampire like you did the merman. He can’t help but feel a little disappointed. When it’s his turn, he thinks, you’ll become more entertaining then.
You watched in silence as Seokjin licked his lips clean of your blood. The red liquid that he had stolen from you, that was now steadily seeping from your wound and covering the white bedsheets underneath you, like a Rorschach picture mapping your life. “You’re strong,” he grins, speaking too tenderly for the brutality he was inflicting. “Stop fighting and it will end sooner, y/n. Let me into your mind.”
What does that even mean?! In your blood loss the tips of your fingers begin to feel cold like your captor’s, your head pounds and your vision blurs with each passing moment as the blood drains from your artery, you don’t want to give in, but if it will end this torture...
You shut your eyes tightly, and turn your head to expose your bleeding neck further to the monster above you. When Seokjin lowers his lips to your neck, you try to think of sweet Jungkook instead, his warm body instead of Seokjin’s cold one. You didn’t dare wish to be with him again, you didn’t dare think you made a mistake, that you should have stayed. Now all you can do is hope you can save him and yourself from this horrible island. Jungkook doesn’t deserve to be imprisoned with the likes of them.
Seokjin drinks the warm liquid pouring from your throat. You listen to him gulping down your blood, How much longer, until he finds what he’s looking for? You feel your fight escape you with each swallow, you feel yourself slipping away. It reminds you of drowning, it reminds you of Yoongi and how he kissed life into you instead, but this was the kiss of death.
‘Yoongi,’ you close your eyes and think of him. And then you felt it, the pull inside your mind. Your current circumstance falls away in shambles, your memories are pulled out of you through the cracks, the images race through your mind as Seokjin bears witness to it all.
---
Yoongi sits at the table, hair and clothes dry, turning his head to see you awake.
The relief that softens his features as he’s walking to your side.
The delicate way he places the hairpiece back in its place.
The way his eyes melt at your words.
Why hadn’t you seen it before? Seokjin saw it all. The way Yoongi screams at you, the rage and embarrassment in his eyes as he tells you how much he can’t stand you, the way he licks his lips when you yell back. His eyes studying you when you yank him closer, full of anger and full of-
You weakly push against Seokjin, you don’t want to remember, you don’t want to miss him. You can’t stop it, you can’t stop the memories flooding through your system.
You suddenly remember Jungkook’s sparkling round eyes watching you, wanting you, the crinkle of his nose when he laughs, the pink flush on the edges of his ears when you talk to him, the muscles of his arms flexing as he cages you under him, his deep groaning in your ear, the vein in his neck when he pushes into your wet heat, the truth in his voice when he says he’ll protect you.
You feel Seokjin’s hands travel down your body the same way you remembered Jungkook. You curse him in your mind, but your body couldn’t tell the difference, your stomach tightens and you’re no longer cold, warmth spreads over you to the tips of your toes.
You want to scream, scream for Jungkook, but you’re frozen, lost in your own thoughts, confused by your senses. Jungkook feels as real as Seokjin, but you know he’s not really there, no matter how much you wanted it to be true.
You remember Hoseok’s harsh looks, the growing anger in his eyes, the hurt in his eyes, the pain in his eyes, the pain still present in his eyes even in his wolf form when he howls and cries at you. He’s begging you to stay, he’s telling you he can’t bear to lose someone again. How could you leave them? Why can’t they be enough for you? Hoseok will treat you better, if you just stay with him, please. You understand his barks and howls now, because Seokjin understands. Tears well up in your eyes and you try to move away, but Seokjin is too solid, too powerful, and unyielding in his search.
Namjoon’s eyes are on you as you eat next to his brothers at dinner, filled with nothing but warmth and happiness. Those brown eyes, you miss them. You feel dizzy and helpless, you can’t take it anymore. You grab a fistful of Seokjin’s hair to try to pull him off of you.
“What have you done to Jimin? What have you done?!” Namjoon’s voice roars in your memory. But it’s not any memory you remember having. Before you realize what you are doing, your hands hold on tightly to Seokjin’s hair, pulling him closer and holding him to you so you can see more.
---
“It-It wasn’t me...” The tall vampire is covered in blood. Some of it is Jimin’s blood, yes, but the majority of blood that drips down his face and hands, that covers his clothes, belongs to five other men. Dead men. Men who beat the broken man in his arms to the brink of death.
Seokjin found his dear friend screaming in pain. He saw them over Jimin’s bleeding body, blood Seokjin treasured just as much as he treasured his bond with the compassionate and playful man. His friend, Jimin, who wailed for Seokin, for Namjoon, for Hoseok, for Taehyung, for anyone to help him, while his bones cracked, lying in the dirt, choking on his own blood, precious blood.
Seokjin explained to Namjoon when he saw them laughing, like hyenas over a carcass, spitting hateful slurs down at Jimin, he couldn’t control himself. Seokjin tore them apart one by one. He chased each one down like the pathetic animals they were, and tore the limbs that touched his dear friend straight from their bodies.
Seokjin had been weak, he had become too accustomed to the harmonious life he and Namjoon had created for themselves. Had it been decades before, he would have endured, but living with the pack had softened him too much and he couldn’t stand the pain of losing Jimin, so when he found a weak pulse he gave Jimin as much of his venomous blood as he could.
Namjoon simply nods at the information, his weary eyes examining his two friends, friends who were like family to him. He didn’t want to lose Jimin either. “We need to take him somewhere safe...to the island, before he wakes up,” Namjoon places a hand on the trembling vampire’s shoulder.
“What if he doesn’t wake up?” the vampire’s voice shakes, he notices the cuts on Jimin’s face and body have yet to heal themselves.
“That’s not something you should be worried about,” Namjoon runs his hand through Jimin’s tangled hair, gently placing the dark strands back into place, his eyes filling with tears, “it’s when he wakes up, we need to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”
Seokjin nods weakly.
“Go now. I’ll clean up the mess, brother.”
Your hands fall, the blood loss making you too weak to grip onto Seokjin’s hair. Seokjin had taken more blood than he intended, lost in his own memories.
The vampire pulls away from you, even as the edges of your vision blurs, you see his eyes, glowing red and glassy with unshed tears, staring at you with a mixture of pain and surprise. He shakes away his bewilderment and rips into the flesh of his wrist, placing the cut across your lips as you can no longer hold consciousness.
---
When you wake again it’s night time, the light behind the curtains has left you.
Your body aches. You run your fingers along your neck, searching for the punctures, and you can only feel smooth skin crusted in dried blood. Your head feels like it’s splitting. You groan in pain.
You see Jimin before you hear him, and even then you’re not sure if your brain created the sounds to ease your mind as he stalks closer to your waking form.
“Finally! Now what could you have possibly done to Jin?” Jimin says, contemplating the reason his friend holed himself up in his office, refusing to speak to Jimin or even look at him.
He jumps on the bed, shaking your already pounding head. “He refuses to let me bite you,” he whines, “Explain now, pet.” Jimin prods you with his foot. “Explain what memory of yours Seokjin pulled.”
You just groan back, turning away from Jimin, burying your head into the cold pillows of your bed, one of the few things not soaked in your blood. Everything is so cold you can’t stand it. Jimin places a hand on your shoulder to make you face him. Cold fingers touch your skin, everything is cold.
“Don’t touch me!” you pull away from him, yelling.
Your face stings. Jimin had slapped you hard, you come to the realization only after the fact, the skin he touched burns hot. It makes you laugh, because you wanted warmth, didn’t you?
Jimin’s eyes narrow on you, “Say that again, I dare you.”
You bite back tears and ask, “What the fuck happened to you?!”
“So you’re back to being a disrespectful brat. You’re not on the same level as me, human. Learn to behave.”
“No! What happened to you to make you so heartless? What changed you?” How did the bleeding man you saw Namjoon cry over in Seokjin’s memories become this monster? He was human at one point too, you wouldn’t have believed it if you didn’t see it for yourself.
Jimin rolls his eyes, “Don’t act like you know anything about me, bitch.”
You take a deep breath trying to calm your temper. Not only had you seen Seokjin’s memories, you had felt his emotions. His pain lingers in you still, beside the fear and hatred you feel, you look at Jimin and feel...sorry for him. You have to look down, the emotions are too much and too overwhelming. It was easier when all you knew was the monster before you. Jimin takes your silence as obedience instead.
“Now can you be a good little pet and answer my question,” he says, tapping you on the head hard enough to make your headache roar back to life. You flinch and search the eyes of the man before you. Or rather the shell of a man, you think bitterly.
And what a beautiful shell it is. Jimin is stunning, bright white hair pulled away and styled so you can see the delicate features of his face. He holds himself gracefully, like a dancer, his elegant figure hiding his true strength. You wonder what he was like before turning into a monster, what kind of man was he? Someone whom Namjoon cared for.
“It wasn’t my memory...you. I saw you…” You whisper, knowing Jimin’s sharp senses can hear you loud and clear, “I saw Seokjin turn you.” Silence falls over the room again, a silence so deafening you start to hear the pounding in your head becoming louder.
The vampire stares at you, soft features stoic. He looked lost in thought, you pictured his face full of cuts, bloody lip, black eye, human, and Seokjin so unsure, scared, worried, trembling, so unlike themselves now.
“How did he turn me?” It surprised you how genuine Jimin’s question sounded. Did he really not know?
You keep your mouth shut, you don’t think it would be wise on your part to tell him. Jimin seems like the type to shoot the messenger. Unfortunately, unlike Seokjin, Jimin had little to no patience. His expression changes like lightning, full of anger. He pulls you by the hair dragging you off the bed and onto the floor.
The vampire crouches over you and grabs your face, holding you down to the wood floor, pressing his sharp nails into the skin of your cheeks making you yell.
“Ahh there’s your voice! Tell me.”
“Why don’t you ask Seokjin?!”
“But I rather you just do as I say,” he says playfully, as his fingers dig harder into your skin, cutting the flesh and drawing blood.
“Why don’t you just bite me, then?!” You spit the words out through clenched teeth.
You watch the vampire lick his lower bottom lip, thinking it over briefly as he pulls your face closer to his, you struggle against his painful grip. “How impetuous...” he watches you squirm like an insect stuck in glue. “You’re rather dumb, aren’t you?”
Should you reach for your dagger now? Should you try to kill Jimin?
Every time you thought about hurting him, you remembered Seokjin’s crying face, and you wanted to cry as well, what was happening to you?
“Jimin, leave us.” Jin stands in the doorway to your room.
Jimin stands up in a huff, letting you go. You fall back onto the hardwood floor. He balances on his heels, ignoring you and scrutinizing Seokjin. He wanted to question the older vampire, he has so many questions now, but decides against it. What does it matter anyways? The idea of being a weak and powerless human revolts him. “I’m getting impatient,” he says before he leaves, slamming the door and making you jump.
“T-thank y-you.” You try to calm your breathing.
Seokjin looks at you with a frown, extending his hand out to you. You hesitate and place your hand in his and he easily lifts you to your feet. You watch the older vampire walk slowly around the room, drawing his fingers along the furniture he passes. You stand awkwardly, you don’t think making a run for it would gain you any favors right now.
“I’m hungry,” Seokjin says. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, continuing to meander around the room, waiting for your response.
You clench your jaw. So this is what you’ve been reduced to, you think, a late night snack. “Are you going to just keep me trapped in this room? I’m hungry too, I haven’t eaten anything-”
“Dinner's already passed. Before I let you go roaming around, I need to make sure you’re going to behave yourself, do you understand?”
No, you don’t understand at all. It sounds like he’s going to starve you into subservience, and you have to get out of this room, you have to find the portal.
“I will do as you say...please...” you walk over to where he’s standing, trying your best to seem meek. “I’m starving,” you reason, “I’m sure you know how it feels to hunger for something” you say, turning your head to stare at the windows, curtains now open to the night sky, extending your neck to the vampire. His eyes are pulled to your attention, following the lines of your shoulder. You roll your neck, loosening the stiff muscles, moving close enough to him that your chest bumps into his. You look up into Seokjin’s eyes through your lashes, “I-I will behave.”
Seokjin smiles, bringing his head down into the curve of your neck, lips skirting across the skin. Your fingers reach up to caress the back of his head. You can see the pair of you in the bedroom mirror. Another myth proven wrong, you think, as you study your seduction, how his lean frame bends closer to yours, his arms wrapping around the lower part of your back.
In truth, Seokjin wasn’t hungry. He had taken more than enough blood from you this morning already, but Seokjin wanted to see if lightning could strike twice. Never had the pull been so strong for him that a human had been able to enter his memories, not even when Jimin was alive. He needed to learn more.
Seokjin licks your face, tongue tracing the cuts Jimin’s nails left behind. You hold your breath, trying to act like you enjoyed it. You hated it, you wished you could stick Yoongi’s dagger into Seokjin’s cold dead heart and be done with it already.
Seokjin trails kisses back to the place he bit you before. He keeps kissing your sensitive skin until his lips reach your ear and he whispers, “I’m not Jungkook, little Dove, you’ll have to do better than that.”
You stumble backwards but it’s too late, Seokjin already has you in his clutches.
He pulls you into a tight embrace, walking you backward even more. His bite is precise, you suspect perfectly precise to where he bit you this morning. Your arms are locked tightly in between your bodies as he holds you to him.
Thunder roars in your memory, you feel yourself drowning. Your muscles ached, your lungs burned. You feel Yoongi’s hand on your ankle, pulling down, hand on your waist, pulling down, hand on your neck, pulling you closer, his lips on your lips-
You cry and yell against Seokjin’s grasp. Cold turns to warmth as you see Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok laughing around the firepit, and Seokjin, and Jimin, laughing too. Yoongi sits with a calm expression on his face, his lips curved upward, and a man you don’t recognize sits next to him-
Seokjin yanks his mouth away from you and you fall backward, back hitting the bed while you struggle to breath. You cover the holes on your neck with your palm to stop the rushing blood.
“How?” is all Seokjin can say, shaken by the happy memory that even he had forgotten about.
You stare up at the high ceiling dazed and too weak to move, “Do I...” you can feel the blood spill between the gaps of your fingers, “look...” you gasp, “like a vampire expert...to you?”
Seokjin moves to the window, his back to you. He watches the waning moon and lets his mind wander to his old friends. If they were off the island, he could see a scenario where you and he would meet at a bar, laugh over drinks, but the ending would always be the same. “You look,” he looks over his shoulder at you, “like you could use a drink,” his lips curving into a half smile.
“Are you,” you gasp, “offering?”
He walks over to you slowly, bringing his wrist to his mouth, and then extends the sliced skin to your mouth, waiting expectantly.
You take his offering bitterly, gulping down the metallic liquid, the wounds burn like fire as they heal over. The pain is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. You shut your eyes tightly, you want to cry, or scream, but like Namjoon said, no one can help you here. You feel fingers intertwine with your bloody fingers, pulling your bloodied hand away as you weakly protest. The room spins, even if your wounds are healed, your blood is still gone and you’re feeling the effects of two feedings.
Seokjin brings your hand to his lips and licks away the blood, tongue circling your fingers. “This can hurt or it can feel good,” he says slowly.
You laugh, delirious from hunger and blood loss. “I wonder, that memory,” you gasp, still laughing, “does it bother you to be reminded of your humanity? Does it hurt you?”
You probably shouldn’t have said that, but the blood loss is doing funny things to you, or maybe you just really wanted to get a reaction from the guarded man, no, guarded vampire.
If your accusation angered Seokjin he didn’t show it with any emotion, instead he sighed and bent over you, biting down hard on your shoulder. The searing pain makes you scream. You cry out, not expecting the sharp and throbbing kind of ache from his bite as Seokjin’s teeth stayed deep in your flesh.
Seokjin pulls another memory out of you, and you curse your luck in remembering Jungkook again, remembering his tanned and muscled body next to yours. Jungkook kissing your knuckles and telling you how he’s yours now. Jungkook kissing down your body. His head between your legs, his mouth feverishly licking at your folds. The more you try not to think about him the stronger the memories feel. The pain in your shoulder dulls as your legs tighten around the vampire's sides.
Perhaps it was your bloodloss mixed with Seokjin’s bloodlust seeping into your consciousness, the memory of Jungkook’s length buried deep inside you and feeling of Seokjin’s growing bulge pressed against your stomach makes your head spin and you just want to feel more. You hear Namjoon’s deep authoritative voice whispering dirty things in your ear, it makes you shudder, a moan escapes your throat-
Seokjin pulls away from you abruptly at that, his eyes are deep red, so dark they look black. He watches as your body twitch in pain, as he focuses on calming the storm of human emotions, your emotions, running through him, as he tries to forget the compromising memory of his old friend. He bites down on his bottom lip until he draws blood, his blood mixing with your own blood in his mouth, and he presses his lips on yours.
You realized how passionate Yoongi’s kisses were compared to Seokjin’s. The merman was distant, but his actions were full of feeling, whether they be good or bad. Seokjin was cold in body and mind, a hard shell, you felt like you were kissing a statue as you choked on his blood, the liquid metallic and sweet.
You can feel the punctures in your skin closing, it hurts so much worse than when he bit you, you distract yourself by licking into his mouth, feeling his tongue against yours.
Seokjin jumps off of you the second your wounds are healed and leaves without saying a word. You can hear the door lock in your daze.
You scoff, what was up with him, you wonder, dining and dashing like that. The blood loss has you quickly falling asleep despite wanting to use the time alone to plan your escape.
---
They both leave you alone all day until night again. You wake up hungry and weak. When Seokjin wordlessly stalks towards you that night you tell him so.
“I still can’t trust you to play well with others.”
“I need food! I need to eat! I am not a goddamn vampire like you! I can’t survive off your blood!” You throw your pillow at him. Should you have done that? Probably not, but you’re too hungry to care.
Seokjin pauses, looks at the floor where the pillow lays at his feet after coming in contact with his chest. “I’ll bring you food later tonight, now lie down, I’m hungry too.”
Ugh.
---
There were so very little things now that intrigued Seokjin, and this connection had become a mystery he wanted to solve. The strength of his pull on you was so intense it had become almost addicting to feel for Seokjin.
A vampire's pull had always been one-sided, but this pull acted like a wave, crashing onto the shore of your consciousness, pulling back and forth, dragging his memories along the current too.
Promised food, you comply, lying down against your better judgement. You glare at him as he lies next to you, and he smooths your furrowed features with his fingers instead of matching your anger. It makes you feel self conscious, the way he watches you with searching eyes. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
“So demanding, do you want me to bite you that badly?”
Is he teasing you? “No. I don’t. At all!”
“Okay then.” he lies back down, his arms underneath his head.
You sit up to look down at him. “Is this a joke?”
“I’ll wait, I don’t mind. I can wait for days, the question is can you?”
If you tried to stab him now he would definitely be able to stop you. Too bad. “I think I can’t stand you.”
“You barely know me!”
“I’ve seen enough,” you scoff.
“I’ve lived a long time,” Seokjin says, serious again, “you don’t care to see more? Who I really am?”
“Who are you?”
“Let me bite you and find out,” he winks.
'Well, he seems to be in a better mood,' you think. You wonder why he is even bothering to ask you, you’re his prisoner, after all. “So this is not just about feeding anymore?”
“I’m a vampire, of course it is.”
You sigh, you’re hungry and tired from blood loss. “Okay, bite me, but choose some place else,” you rub the sensitive spot on your neck and shiver. “NOT THERE!”
Seokjin stops pushing your legs open. “But there is an artery in your leg-”
Your face goes hot, you shove your wrist in his face. “Here then!” He sighs and lies back down again, pulling you over his body easily. You sit awkwardly against his lap as you watch his fangs prick your inner wrist. The blood loss this time wasn’t so bad, but it still made your weak body sway, your free hand bracing yourself against his chest.
He does the same thing to you again, pulls memories of your life. You saw memories from before the boat wreck to your childhood, and you saw glimpses of Seokjin’s life as well. You learned at one point in his very long life he stopped being a complete monster and became a part time bartender.
For decades he moved from taverns, to pubs, to bars. The perfect career, and as his beautiful looks were admired everywhere he went, he was never short of meal options. You woke in the morning and you laid on clean sheets, there was water for you and bread and butter and jam, an apricot and an apple, food not found on an island. The portal.
Tonight. This night you will be ready for Seokjin. You quickly realized you weren’t just remembering with Seokjin, you were feeling, and he was feeling too. If you could distract him well enough with a memory, you think you’d be able to escape!
---
Tonight Jimin walks into your room instead.
“Where’s Seokjin?”
“You didn’t miss me?” He holds a pear in his hand, throwing it up in the air and catching it easily. “He is busy, the others were feeling neglected by him-”
“There are others? Other humans?!”
Jimin smirks at your wide eyes. “Yes, pet, did you think you were special?” You swallow, keeping your questions to yourself. So Seokjin really meant it when he talked about playing well with others. Who were they and how long have they been here? Could some of them be your friends? Maybe you weren’t the only survivor on your boat! More humans, more people to help you fight against Seokjin and Jimin, if you could just meet them and somehow convince them...
Jimin heard your accelerating heartbeat, could see the happiness dance across your features. “What ever you are thinking, I suggest against it. Actually, go ahead and try, I haven’t punished anyone in so long.”
“Are you going to bite me or not?”
“Oh, so now you’re eager for it, it’s always the same.”
“Still not allowed, huh? Must suck to be you. Ha! Get it?”
“Do you think you’re being cute? Jin said I can’t bite you, he didn’t say anything about not hurting you.” Jimin throws the pear in the air again, “What? No clever retort?”
“I don’t know about Seokjin,” you speak softly, “but you used to be human, why do you act like this?” You watch as Jimin drops the pear on the ground and steps on the fruit with his feet. You bite your lip. What a waste. You consider pulling out your dagger just for that.
“Being human?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t remember anything about that. I can’t imagine being so weak and foolish.”
“You really don’t remember?” You look at the pear, squished into a pulp. “Can you do what Seokjin does, with the memories?”
“What makes you think I want to learn about your pathetic life?”
“No,” You idiot. You sigh. “But maybe you want to learn about your pathetic life?”
You scream, Jimin’s nails were digging into your skull, a handful of your hair in his fists. “Call me pathetic again,” he threatens lowly.
“Pathetic,” you say bearing your teeth. Jimin smiles, because in that moment you reminded him of someone. He’s going to enjoy breaking the bones of your body and watching your limbs reassemble again. He grabs your forearm, pulling your arm closer to your face. You wince as his grip tightens, struggling against his tight hold on your hair. “Call me pathetic again,” he sings, his eyes sparkling with delight.
You weigh your options in that moment.
“Seokjin!” you scream.
Jimin laughs, tightening his grip even more so you are sure to have bruises, “Do you think he really cares about what happens to you?”
“Jimin was a regular at your bar! Wasn’t he?!” You had seen the younger vampire, only briefly, you barely recognized him with dark hair, but you knew it was Jimin the way you felt your own heart soar when Seokjin glanced at him for the first time.
You screamed louder than you’ve ever heard yourself, making the vampire wince at your volume, because in that moment Jimin snapped the bone in your forearm. “Even if you don’t remember,” you cry, mumbling out the words through your pain, “you were human. Just. Like. Me.”
Jimin grabs your upper arm this time, and squirm in his hold. You start to cry harder despite trying to hold the tears in. The door to your room slams open. Seokjin looks furious when he steps towards the both of you.
“Jimin leave!"
“What?” The white haired vampire loosens his grip, but stands his ground. Seokjin doesn’t speak again, only gives him a look, and Jimin relents, breaking his stare with several blinks and releasing you. The younger vampire can’t hide his emotions as well as Seokjin and you see the hurt twist his beautiful features.
You sit on the ground grimacing in pain, holding your broken arm to your chest. Outside your room you hear the familiar crash of glass and scrape of wood and you suspect Jimin is not taking Seokjin’s orders well. Seokjin looks much more unhinged than you ever recall seeing him and then impassiveness washes over his face again, much to your disappointment.
“He is usually not like this. He can go months without drinking blood, it seems my ban has just made him all the more obsessed with you,” he sighs.
“Greeat,” you wince, “Lift the ban then, might as well.” If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious what would happen if Jimin bit you. Maybe then he wouldn’t despise you so much.
“The ban is not to protect you, naive little dove.” He sits down on the floor next to you. You find the sight comical, Seokjin in an expensive suit sitting on the dusty floor.
You roll your eyes. Of course. “You care a lot about him,” you whisper softly. He nods. You turn to him, “Do you remember why you started caring? Do you think who he is now still acts in the same way that made you care so much for him?”
“You think I’m a fool?” he laughs softly, “I know Jimin’s...lost his way...” You sit in silence as you struggle to take your mind off the pain in your arm. “For us, time, is infinite. This is only a small stretch of time compared to what I’ve been through. Jimin will come back around, I know it.”
“Well I think he’s a lost cause,” you mumble.
“He’s not, no one is...This is going to hurt a lot, if you don’t mind, I can make it quick.” His hand traces your jaw and turns your head to face him, eyes glancing towards your lips.
“Am I going to have to get used to this, you fixing the pain he causes-”
“Am I going to have to get used to you both provoking each other all the time?”
You bite your lip, he started it, it’s not your fault he freaks out over every little thing you say. You change the subject. “Are there really other prisoners here? Other humans like me?”
Seokjin tuts disapprovingly, “House guests, y/n! They can stop being in service to us whenever they want, we provide them all with a choice.”
“Oh, and what are the options, be your personal feeding supply or die?”
“Ahh see, you catch on quickly, and Jimin calls you stupid.”
Your eyes narrow on him, “Not much of a choice there.”
Seokjin leans into you, “it comforts them, when they think they have some control. You know, you would all be at the bottom of the ocean if it weren’t for us.”
You pull your legs closer to your body, it’s hard to look at him, much less listen to the disturbing things he says, “Why are you telling me this? Am I supposed to be grateful?” You shuffle your body, trying to get comfortable despite the throbbing pain of your broken arm.
“Perhaps,” he scrutinizes your body, “At least don’t provoke Jimin. Ready?”
You hum, “Yeah, I’m ready for my medicine, Doctor.”
He looks down, nodding. “No anesthesia for this surgery I’m afraid.”
He motions you closer, bites into his wrist and fills his mouth with his own blood. You’re careful not to jostle your arm too much as you move in front of him. His long fingers hold your head still as he presses his mouth onto yours, feeding you his blood. Even when you scream in pain he holds you to him as your bone readjusts itself and heals back together, your body in excruciating agony. He holds you tightly, his mouth swallowing your screams until the process is complete, until you pass out in his arms.
---
You wake up to clanging silver. The light feels warm on your face, and then you feel nothing as the curtains are drawn. You open your eyes, ready to protest.
“Oh my god!”
The woman before you jumps at your words. “Your breakfast,” she motions to the tray.
“You're real, oh my god, it’s true! Help me! Please, we can escape together!” The woman stumbles away from you as you desperately try to hold on to her.
“What?” Why is she looking at you like that? Why is she acting like that?! She pushes you away as she opens the door. You’re too stunned, too hurt by this stranger who you thought could help you to question her when she says, “There is no escape.” She closes the door, locking you inside. What just happened?!
Now that you’re alone again you search the room from top to bottom, desperate now that you’ve realized you’re up against so much more. All the drawers are empty, not even a pen and paper in the desk. The window opens but that doesn’t help you because you’re several floors up. The bathroom has running water and the prettiest bathtub you’ve ever seen, so you give up and spend the day soaking yourself, in your clothes. The dress floating and surrounding you reminded you of a certain man, well, merman. No one visits you that night.
The day repeats itself six times. You try different approaches to try and convince the older woman to help you and every time she refuses or ignores you completely.
You don’t get it, you don’t understand, and her behavior disturbs you. You had asked her, “Don’t you want to see your friends and family again?! Do you have children? Or a spouse?” Her answer was, “I don’t think so.”
‘I don’t think so.’ She couldn’t tell you how long she’d been here either. The implication scared you.
You sit at the door, your ear to the wood all day. Sometimes you’ll hear footsteps, you know it’s not Jimin or Seokjin, because they don’t make any noise when they walk. Sometimes you yell and bang on the door waiting for a response that never comes.
One day you yanked down the drapery, opened the window completely letting all the sunshine in, and soaked it in like a cat. Before you woke up the next morning everything had been set back the way it was. It was maddening.
So one day you flooded the bathroom, just to see if anyone would come to stop you. They didn’t and the next morning the tub was gone. You cried all night.
For six nights you’re alone. The fifth night you dig into your dress pockets to find the tiny shell Yoongi gifted you. You tap it three times and wait, holding it to your ear.
“Y/n?” His groggy voice fills the sea noise. You can’t bring yourself to speak, or you would really break down. Hearing his voice was enough.
---
Before the sun sets on the seventh night there is a knock on your door. You’re already so close to the entrance you can hear the soft click as it unlocks and you swing the door open to see Jimin.
He smiled down at you, a picture of sin. The young vampire wore casual loose-fitting clothes, shirt hanging over his shoulders. He dresses so relaxed, so opposite to Seokjin, who wore his shirts buttoned up to the collar. All you wanted to do all day was talk to someone, be heard, but with Jimin here you feel like an animal cornered in a trap, and you want to hide.
He gives you a cocky smile and drapes his arm over your shoulders, dragging you back into the room. “Look at you! Perfectly fine, Seokjin always overreacts,” he whines, “I’m tired of waiting. I can trust you not to tell on me, right pet?”
The vampire presses himself against your back and wraps his arms around your waist, locking you to him, chin digging into your shoulder. You stand frozen against him, Jimin is excellent at making sure you feel like you’re trapped and powerless when you’re around him.
His nuzzles your neck, lovingly like a lover would, inhaling your scent. You craved human contact, but this man isn’t exactly human now, is he? Your stomach turns as the familiar feeling of fear bubbles inside you.
“And if I don’t?” you whisper, and his grip tightens around you.
“You tell me, what do you think will happen, if you don’t?” he mumbles against your neck, teeth grazing your skin and he moans softly. He wrapped himself around your body, caressing your curves, it confused you at how affectionate he was being, or was he just a snake constricting his prey?
Your stomach tightens, you were stronger than this, right? A week in time out didn’t work on you, right? You couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your lips every time Jimin shifted against you. You blame Seokjin’s fondness for him that must have rubbed off on you. You try to step away but Jimin pulls you in closer.
“I thought I was a disgusting human, are you the one who missed me, Jimin?” You ask him softly.
“There are things about you that are only barely revolting, I guess.” He can feel the shift in your mood as annoyance bristles through your body, it makes him smile. You are so defiant for being so scared, it makes him want to break you even more.
You’re scared, but deep down there was a part of you too curious for your own good, that just wanted Jimin to bite you, just to see why and what Seokjin was protecting him from. It would only be to your advantage, if that was the case, right? You stretch your neck to the side slightly to see what Jimin’s reaction would be. His fingers dig into your hips. “What’s this?” Oh no.
Jimin pulls the shell hidden inside your pocket. You grab at his hands, but he’s too fast, dancing around you as he pushes you away, pushing you to the ground.
Somehow you always end up here on the floor, at Jimin’s feet, probably exactly where the vampire thinks you should be. You’ve never seen him more excited, it twists your insides.
Jimin’s cold fingers inspect the tiny shell, tutting. He mouths the words, ‘bad girl’ silently. Tapping the tiny shell, he brings the shell to his lips.
“Yoongi, I know you’re there. Do you want to hear y/n?” He crouches next to you, lifts your chin so your eyes meet his, smiling as if you were playing along on an inside joke. “Do you want to hear her cries? Do you want to hear her moans?” his sinful voice sings tauntingly.
The younger vampire promised Jin he wouldn’t touch you, but Seokjin has so many rules, and this just proved you couldn’t be trusted, that you needed to be taught a lesson. Seokjin will forgive him, Jimin thinks, he always does.
“C’mon, Yoongi wants to hear you, y/n! I bet he misses you. Let him hear your pretty voice.” You just glare at him, staying silent. Jimin didn’t seem angered by your defiance, in fact, he seemed happy.
He pulls your hair, moving your face closer to the shell, his nails dig into your scalp, and you feel them pierce your skin. The pain causes you to let out a strangled cry. “That’s it!” You hold back tears as you glare at him, Seokjin is wrong, Jimin can’t be saved.
“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” you grit out, scratching at his hand.
“Oh, no?” He releases your hair. You jump up but Jimin pulls you down to the ground again. Even as you kick and hit him, it’s obvious it’s not hurting the vampire. He easily pins you down, caging you in with his thighs, his knees pinning your arms to your sides. His fingers wrap around your neck, holding you tight as you grunt against him. You’ve become a mouse, trapped by a snake.
“Afraid yet?” You know he won’t kill you, it seems like torturing you is just too much fun for him. Jimin may be stronger than you, faster than you, but he’s as caged as you are, stuck on this island, leashed by Seokjin’s rules, acting out like a child.
“No.” He lets go and you heave in air, coughing. “Seokjin will find out, even if I don’t say anything. He said-”
“Jin,” he bares his fangs, “says a lot of things.” He brings the shell to his mouth again, “What bone should I break first?”
Jimin laughs, and you wonder what the merman said to him.
Jimin grabs your jaw, tilting your head to the side, reveling in your struggle. He places the tiny shell next to your ear. You try to silence your heavy breathing. “Yoong-g-gi?” You hear the ocean, the rumbling of the sea, and you hear-
“Y/n!” Yoongi’s voice rumbles through the tiny shell, he calls out to you, words rushed and worried, full of concern that has your heart dropping, “Jimin has a weakness, It’s T-” Jimin crushes the tiny shell between his fingers.
Jimin pouts, “I thought he would have used the opportunity to confess, now he’ll never get the chance.”
He moves away from you, “Well, aren’t you going to make a run for it? I didn’t lock the door.” He lifts his eyebrows up, nodding towards the door.
You lie on the cold hard ground stunned. Yoongi's gone. You think of a scenario where you rush towards the door, only to be stopped by Jimin as he tackles you again. No, you won’t do that. Jimin takes and takes, you're going to make it your mission to take from him. You stand up on shaky legs and walk towards Jimin.
“Actually, I rather you just bite me instead.” You’re not confident that he’d really go against Seokjin, so might as well egg him on. “Unless you’re scared of Seokjin?”
Jimin scoffs, jaw clenching in annoyance and eyes narrowing. “Any other cute little means of communication you tried to sneak in here, hmm?” He yanks you close to him again, his hands pull at your dress, wandering over your thighs, skirting dangerously close to your center. He smirks down at you as you pretend to act unaffected by the way his hands glide over your ass, kneading the flesh. His hands run up your corset, getting closer and closer to your dagger.
You run your hand over the front of his pants. It was the only thing you could think to do to distract the vampire before he found your dagger and really killed you. It worked. Jimin stops you, digs his nails into your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away.
So without many other options, you send your quarrel with the vampire off into a whole other direction as you grab for the bulge in his pants. You feel the weight of him in your palm, your mouth drops a little at his size. Jimin’s jaw tightens as you rub up and down his bulge.
You’re stuck in a staring match with the vampire. Two stubborn beings, challenging each other to see who breaks first.
Surprising you, he spins you around and starts undoing the straps of your corset.
No, no, that’s the opposite of what you wanted! “What are you doing?” You try to wiggle your body to face him again, “Just fuck me already!”
Jimin cages you against his lean frame, crushing your body to the closest wall with his own. He inhales into your neck. He can sense the torrent of your spiraling emotions, he feels your hatred for him radiating off your body stronger than ever as he slows his advances down.
“You are acting more stupid than usual, pet.”
“You wanted to play,” you say, “Well, let’s play then.”
He’s never played this kind of game before, and you’ve enticed him, he has no problem calling your bluff. His hand runs along your cleavage, kneading the flesh.
Jimin pulls your dress up slowly, his cold hand running up your leg. You rest your forehead on the wall, shuddering when he drags his fingers across your center. “Your hands are cold.”
He pushes two fingers inside you, deep, you were barely ready for the stretch, crying out from the sudden intrusion and cold sensation. Jimin groans as you whimper against him, “Forget what I am already?” He licks your neck, fingers pumping in and out at a dizzying pace.
“How could I ever forget?” you whisper.
“I regret destroying that shell, I would have liked to let Yoongi listen to what a whore you are.”
Your body tenses and Jimin leans his body harder into yours, pressing another finger inside. “What would the dogs think, knowing their bitch is so wet for their enemy, hmm?” Making you angry is too easy, he thinks, and makes you smell so much better, sexier. Jimin is used to fear, he’s grown accustomed to desire, but your rage makes him ravenous. If Jimin wasn’t so consumed by his carnal desires, he might question himself as to why he wants someone to hate him so much, but all he can think about is how he’s going to drive you to madness with just his fingers. He resists the urge to bite you by sucking harshly on your neck, pulling the blood closer to your skin and leaving dark marks behind.
Before you have a chance at release he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and holding up the evidence of your arousal, the clear substance clinging to his fingers as he licks them clean, moaning in your face. The sight is depraved, and you can’t look away. He smiles smugly at you as he smells your lust surround him.
“I knew you wouldn’t bite me.”
“We will get to that, we’re playing a game remember? Or do you want to stop now?”
“All this talk and I still haven’t been bitten or fucked, are vampires impotent or something or is it just you?”
Jimin laughs, yanking your body to face the wall again and pinning you to him. “I’ll make you forget everything but my dick while I’m fucking you, you won’t have a single other thought in that pretty little head of yours other than giving me all your pleasure.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’m waiting.”
Jimin laughs again, pressing three thick fingers deep inside you again, you legs go weak as he holds you up with the force of his body against yours. He drags his fingers out and higher until he’s circling your other opening. His digits press into both of your holes, filling you up completely as you cry out. You haven’t had someone give attention to that part of you in so long, you tense at the unexpected stretch. His thumb works against your clit expertly as he rocks his hand against yours. You feel so full and overwhelmed by Jimin. “So close already? Beg me to make you come, pet.”
“I’m not your pet.”
You take his torture silently, hold in your moans as he brings you to the brink of release and stops short of satisfaction over and over again. He thrusts his fingers in and out of your holes, until the tight stretch goes away, his fingers easily gliding in and out of your wetness, until the ache is replaced with a need for more. Your entire core pulsates as he slowly and torturously circles your swollen bud, changing the pressure just enough to drive you crazy by ghosting over your clit when you needed more and rubbing even harsher circles when it all becomes too much, his touch making you feverish and sick with desire. When you clench around his fingers, closer than you’ve gotten to release since he started this torture, he pulls out of you completely, pressing his hard cock, straining against the cloth of his pants, into your sore center.
“You smell so good,” he moans. You don’t want to think about Jungkook, you don’t want to taint his memory, but Jimin’s words are so similar. Jungkook is nothing like Jimin, but they are more similar to each other than to a human like you. Perhaps you are just as weak and pathetic as Jimin says, a human can be no match for a vampire, and you’ll never be able to win against him.
“Please Jimin...just let me cum...”
“Beg me.” His usual airy voice drips with arousal, and he presses his bulge harder into your wetness.
You don’t do as he says, you can’t, so he continues his torturous little game, until you’re moaning loudly, head thrown back against his shoulder, whimpering every time he stills. He pulls his fingers out of your dripping core, focusing his attention on your ass, thumb rubbing harsh circles into your throbbing clit, you feel so empty and painfully full as your sensitive walls clench around nothing and his fingers stretch your rim open for him. Your entire body vibrates, but you’d rather stay unsatisfied than say please to Jimin ever again.
Finally, as the sun sets and the last bit of light around the curtains disappears, Jimin realizes he can play his game no longer and pulls away from you completely. Your legs give out as you slide down the wall, mind finally free from the haze of lust Jimin kept you in.
“So weak,” Jimin tuts.
“...impotent...dick...”
“Pathetic slut.”
“I thought about Seokjin the entire time,” you whisper.
“...liar.”
---
You must have fallen asleep, you feel a hand cupping your cheek, and you open your eyes to Seokjin, blonde hair, red eyes, suit buttoned to the collar. You let out a small laugh, and then groan once the pain in your joints wakes you fully.
Jin carries you back to your bed. You tug on his sleeve.
“Please take the pain away,” you ask softly.
Seokin’s eyes search the expanse of your skin, “There are no cuts on your body.”
Groaning, you sit up and kiss the vampire who freezes against you. So you take the opportunity to straddle Seokjin’s lap, and start unbuttoning his shirt, kissing, licking, biting his smooth skin. Jimin’s harsh words replay in your mind and sting you. Screw him, let him think whatever he wants, let him hear you. This had been a part of your plan anyways, first Seokjin, and then you’ll worry about him, might as well have some relief too.
“What happened?” Seokjin asks as you rut into his body, tearing his shirt open. He doesn’t look upset that you popped the buttons, does he ever get upset anymore? You hastily unbuckle his belt. His hands cover yours, repeating his question, “What happened, y/n?”
You grab his hand and move it under your dress. Seokjin stills as his fingers come into contact with your thigh, slick with your wetness from hours of Jimin's teasing. His hands travel up your shaking leg.
“You’re so wet,” he groans, “...Did Ji-”
You silence him with a kiss. “Fuck me, I feel like I’m dying.”
Seokjin laughs against your lips, “Humans are so dramatic,” but he’s already pulling you closer, turning you around to lie on the bed. He bends down to your core, pushing your dress over your waist, you spread your legs wide open for him.
He licks your arousal from your inner thigh, fingers massaging your aching center.
“Ugh fuck, stop teasing me,” you whine. Seokjin fills you with two long fingers, pushing inside you to the knuckle. His teeth bite down on your inner thigh, it stings but your lust somehow lessens the pain. Your body tenses, you clench around his fingers and he speeds up, pulling more blood from your veins.
You flinch when you see Jimin again, reliving the memory from Seokjin’s mind. He’s half naked, kissing a beautiful woman who is fully naked, right in front of Seokjin.
Jimin looks so different, dark hair, flushed skin, tenderness in his eyes.
The girl lowers her body between the men, and fills her mouth with Seokjin’s hardening length. You feel yourself become wetter. Seokjin moans against your feverish skin, biting you for a second time, higher up your leg. It stings again, but you’re too busy trying to get off on his fingers to care about anything but release. Seokjin bites the mound of flesh close to your center, his tongue pressing against your hood, your vision goes white and then-
You see Yoongi’s sharp eyes above you, his naked body on top of yours, cold and wet, hard cave rocks against your bare back. You see Namjoon, a younger version of him, long hair pulled back into a low bun, across the room in bed with another woman. The room is small and empty. Two beds, two couples, Seokjin watching his friend fuck the random girl senseless.
You feel jealousy, watching Namjoon through Seokjin’s eyes. He looks so different, so feral and savage. The bed creaks loudly underneath him as he grips the headboard, and thrusts into her wildly. Jin pumps his fingers inside you in time with Namjoon's thrusts, it makes you feel like you’re going to burst into a thousand pieces. Namjoon’s eyes glow yellow as he gives Seokjin a wicked grin and you’re scared for the first time of Namjoon as he growls, releasing into the woman.
“Don’t make a mess,” he drops the spent girl on Seokjin’s lap, who caresses her face. She’s breathtaking, you feel inadequacy course through you, you feel jealousy, you feel turned on when her full lips envelop Seokjin's thumb. Namjoon pulls the sleeping naked girl from Seokjin’s bed, tapping her check to rouse her awake.
Seokjin’s arousal is overwhelming you. He slams into the woman’s body from behind, chasing his high while holding her face down into the bed, and then his fangs pierce her back as her screams are muffled. You don’t want to come to this, to the feeling of her blood filling his mouth, arousing him and arousing you. Namjoon’s grunts and sounds of sex fills your mind again and you come undone in a silent scream around Seokjin’s fingers.
---
Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.
You run around the room, darting around Seokjin who watches you rather calmly for the unfolding situation. The rest of his body frozen, the blessed dagger lodged in between his vertebrae, stopping his regeneration.
Once you came, thighs snug around his head, you pulled the dagger from your corset and stabbed him in the back. You kicked him away from you before he could attack and he fell backward, the dagger piercing deep into his back, and that’s where he was currently, frozen on the floor, watching you as you run around the room in disbelief that you actually managed to stab a vampire.
You trip over him by accident and he lets out a soft grunt. “Fuck! Are you okay?” you sit next to his frozen body, “Like, relative to being stabbed, I mean? Don’t answer that...because you can’t. Oh fuck.” You put your head down, resting it on his chest, you don’t hear anything but your laboured breathing. ‘Believe in yourself, y/n! Yoongi believed in you…’
You gather yourself up once again and you move to the window, jiggling the handle. It’s still unlocked! You’re too high up to escape but...
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I really am sorry,” you grunt as you heave the immobilized vampire to the window, inch by inch, Seokjin’s body like a sack of bricks. You place him against the wall and crouch down so you can look him in the eyes, patting down his messy hair, tousled in your struggle to move him, “I’m sorry,” you repeat again, “but you’re a vampire right?” You say encouragingly, and you give him a couple of pats on the cheek, his eyes dart down to watch the action, “Technically, you can’t die.”
With every ounce of strength you have left inside you, you shove Seokjin out the window.
---
You quietly lock the door to what had been your room and prison cell behind you, quickly walking through the halls. You’re not sure what you expected, maybe a gothic interior fit for Dracula, burning candlesticks and red velvet drapes, but you got electricity and mid century modern eclectic, the walls were colorful with art pieces, deep emeralds and golds and blood red. You open the first door you come across.
A young woman sits on a large bed reading a book, looking up at you. Is that how you looked to them? A more disheveled and unpleasant version of her? She looked happy, until she noticed you, and then her smile fell, disappointed you weren’t Jimin or Jin. You slam the door shut and lock it again.
You race as quietly as you can through the halls, you have no idea what you’re looking for, quickly peeking into each room you come across. Strangers, stop what they are doing to look at you, waiting like obedient lap dogs. You have yet to find an empty room. Four doors you’ve opened on this floor, no empty rooms, and you begin to feel hopeless.
You open the fifth and final door and you’re assaulted with the loud sound of moaning. The moaning comes from a woman specifically, her cries almost as loud as the slapping of her skin against Jimin’s naked body. Jimin had needed an outlet after his time with you, specifically, someone to use and bite that wasn't 'off limits.'
You stand frozen in shock, it feels like all the air has escaped the room, filling the woman’s lungs instead as she screams in ecstasy. He is standing next to the bed, fucking into her at an inhuman speed, holding her hips in the air as she struggles to hold the rest of her torso horizontal. You can’t look away, because her body, her stomach, her large bouncing tits, it’s all covered in blood. You almost scream, almost, but the small huff of air you let out instead is enough. The bed stops creaking as Jimin’s movement stops and you meet his surprised eyes.
You shut the door, lock it and run.
You run down the stairs, you see the entrance and you almost run out the door, but you instead run down the hall, flinging every door you see, praying you find something. There's a kitchen, a dining room with the longest table you’ve ever seen, and an empty room! It looks like an office! You run inside. You run to the desk, looking over the papers. Weird markings litter the pages, it reminds you of the markings on Yoongi’s bag. You have to be getting closer to your objective, you have to be! You scatter the papers around, yank open the drawers, hoping to find something useful. There’s a bookcase behind the desk, and you start pulling down books, nothing is catching your eye. You pull on the bookcase, you run your hand across the wood frantically, searching for perhaps a trap door-
“What are you looking for? I can try to help.”
You jump, almost screaming. You hold your heart, it hadn’t stopped, to your surprise. You had no idea someone else was in the room with you. You stare back at a calm man with messy brown hair, he looks at you timidly. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I just wanted to help, and it took me a while to organize those books,” he laughs softly. The man shuffles back to the wall, you hear metal clanging and look at his feet, they have chains around them, his hands too.
You look down at your feet, papers and books are all around you “I-I’m sorry. I was just-I didn’t know-” You had no idea how much more time you had to spare so you cut to the chase. “Is there a portal here?!”
The man’s eyes go wide, “Not here,” he speaks softly, “One level lower.” He gave you the answer you were looking for without any hesitation, was this a trick? You look at him more closely, his clothes are loose, like pajamas, and he’s barefoot, he looks at you happily, like you didn’t just storm into his room and destroy his things. The innocent expression on his face reminds you of Jungkook.
You remember why he looks so familiar, “You were sitting next to Yoongi!”
The man tilts his head confused, and then he stares at the door, “you need to leave now,” he rushes towards you, “Go down the stairs to the right.” He finds a pen on his desk. “The portal is in the basement, in Seokjin’s office. You’ll need this to open the door, it will only work once.” He grabs your hand and writes a long looping character on your palm, it burns gold and then disappears, while you stand still in shock.
Before you can question him the door bursts open. Jimin stands in the doorway, looking at you and the other man. His anger is replaced by an expression you don’t quite understand. Heavy silence envelops the room. The awkward tension is cut when Jimin speaks to you calmly saying, “Come here. Now.”
The man steps between you and Jimin. “Stay here, he can’t come inside, just like I can’t leave.” The man leans against the desk, his long legs blocking you from leaving, his chains clanging again.
“Y/n, come here now.” That was the first time Jimin said your name. You look between the men.
“Why would I go to you? You’re going to kill me!”
Jimin runs a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes to the side, “I promise you I won’t kill you if you come here right now.” He says the words as sweetly as he can in his growing irritation, trying to coax you to him, but to you he sounds patronizing and angry.
“Jimin’s lying,” the man next to you whispers, confirming your suspicions.
“Tae, just bring her to me!” the vampire screams.
“No, I don’t want to, you’re going to hurt her.”
‘Tae, he said. Is this Taehyung?’ The same man you saw next to Yoongi, the same man Namjoon warned you about, the man who is protecting you and gave you a way out of this hell of a place?
“Can’t you just do the right thing for once?!”
“You haven’t come to visit me in how long, Jimin?”
They yell at each other like an old married couple. You stare down at your hand, it looks perfectly ordinary, you think you might have just imagined it all, what Taehyung did, but you realized on this island nothing was impossible.
“A-are you a wizard?” you interrupt the men’s arguing.
Taehyung turns back to you surprised and gives you a bright smile, “No, I just learned from one. He didn't call himself a wizard, though” he laughs, “I think the correct term is warlock?”
“Oh, okay, good to know,” you mumble. Jimin quietly seethes at the doorway.
“Why do you have chains on if you can’t leave this room?”
“Yeah, why do I have chains on, Jimin?” He turns to the vampire accusingly.
“Just wait until Seokjin comes,” Jimin mutters, and he pulls the dagger you used on Seokjin out of his back pocket, holding the handle with a handkerchief. “Nice trick, by the way, y/n. Seokjin is still healing himself from the fall. You’re going to regret not coming to me when I asked.” He glares at you.
“So that’s what fell!” Taehyung roars with laughter.
“I said I was sorry,” you mutter, biting your lip. How the hell are you going to get out of this situation now? As if you summoned the Devil himself, Seokjin appears next to Jimin.
You hide behind Tahyung out of instinct, grabbing onto his chained arm. Taehyung holds in his joy while the two vampires' expressions darken.
“Don’t fucking touch him!” Jimin seethes.
You let anger get the best of you and wrap your arms around Taehyung’s waist instead, glaring from behind his shoulder.
“Y/n-” “Don’t,” Taehyung interjects. “-get away from him,” Seokjin warns.
“Why?! How do I know you both aren’t going to murder me as soon as I leave this room?”
“Is there not a spell we can use to get her out?!” Jimin turns to Seokjin ignoring you. You grind your teeth. Two can play that game.
“Why are you locked in here? How do you know Yoongi and Namjoon?”
“Yoongi? We all met him when we came to the island.” Jimin screams Taehyung’s name to silence him, but he ignores him easily. “You should have seen Seokjin and Jimin, he got them all wet and they vowed to make sushi out of him!” he laughs, turning his body around in your arms to face you instead of the pair.
You look over to the two vampires who have gone quiet. “And Namjoon?”
“Taehyung..” Seokjin warns.
“What? I’m not even allowed to talk about it now?” Taehyung whines.
“Enough! Y/n come here...please.” You hadn’t expected a request from Seokjin. “I swear, I won’t punish you for what you’ve done, just come here.” he holds out his hand for you, you can see the magic swirl around his fingers, burning his skin. He winces, but doesn’t move his hand away, even when his tips begin to turn black with char.
“What about Jimin?”
“Yes, fine, I won’t punish you, just hurry the fuck up,” the younger vampire looks anxiously at Seokjin’s hand.
“Y/n, please no! I’ve been here by myself for so long, I can’t stand it! You’re the first person who’s visited me. I don’t want to be alone,” Taehyung whimpers, a high pitched whine as you hesitantly make your way to Seokjin. He reminds you so much of Jungkook. He paces around you, begging you to stay.
“I-I don’t want to be locked in that room anymore.”
“Okay! Just come here!” Jimin yells.
“How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t go back on your word?!”
“They will, y/n, please! Look, Jimin promised he would visit me, he lied!”
Seokjin pulls his hand away, completely burned black and puts out his other arm instead. “You’re just going to have to trust us, like we will have to trust you not to pull any more stunts. We’ll trust each other, okay?” Seokjin pleads with you.
“I-I’ll come back to visit you,” you say to Taehyung. “Right?” You turn to Seokjin who relents and gives you a hasty nod.
“No!” Taehyung whimpers, “They are going to lock you away! Please believe me! You’ll never be able to escape.”
You reach for Seokjin’s hand, but Taehyung jumps in between you, holding out his chained hands. “Look at them! Look closely, what are these made out of, y/n? LOOK!” You study the metal, it looks shiny and silver. It’s silver.
Seokjin lurches forward quickly, his suit catches fire, his warm hand grasps onto yours and pulls you out of the room and away from Taehyung and everything goes black.
---
You wake up in a different room. You’re not alone. Another woman sits on the bed next to you, she jumps when you wake up. It makes you jump, ‘fuck why is everyone so jumpy here?’ you think holding your head in your hands to calm your nerves.
You try to scoot away, and you feel a tug on your ankle, so you pull the covers off of you. You’re in a new dress, all white, like the sheets, like the woman’s dress next to you. You see a chain connected to your foot that reminds you of Taehyung’s shackles but darker metal. No. “My clothes!”
“They made me, I-I’m sorry, I had to give them your clothes. The necklace wouldn’t come off, I-I didn’t tell them,” the woman pulls at her sleeve. “I kept your secret, but I can’t promise you they won’t find out, Master might look into my memories.” Your hand traces the gold watch chain around your neck, calming down.
“Okay...thank you.” You whisper uneasily. “H-How long have you been here?”
The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I lost count, Master did give me this on our Fifth Year Anniversary!” She shows off the blood red jewelry dangling from her ears.
Ugh. “That’s nice,” you say and get out of bed. The dress is tight around you, covering your arms and flowing down to your ankles, the one place the fabric doesn’t touch is your neck, the hemline sits off your shoulders and plunges into a deep V. You scoot your way to the door until you can’t take it anymore and reach for the bottom of your dress, pulling the fabric until it tears.
You hear the woman let out a soft, “oh no.”
The chain stops you from reaching the door, even if you stretch out your legs you can’t grab the handle. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
You wheel your body back around, “Hey, what’s your name?”
The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I don’t remember.”
“Listen, I’m going to need you to-WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T REMEMBER?!”
The woman flinches from your volume. “Well Master calls me his little doll and I like that name a lot, and I just, well, forgot my other name.”
You take a deep breath as you try not to be sick. “Well Dolly, your MASTER IS A HUGE FUCKING ASSHOLE. YOU FUCKING LIARS!”
---
The group in the parlor turn their heads to the small voice echoing through the halls, Jimin winces, hearing your words clearly, moving one of the women off his lap. “She’s awake.”
“I’ll go-”
“It seems you failed at controlling her, brother. Why can’t I just try?”
Seokjin scoffs, “You can barely control yourself.”
Jimin’s jaw clenches. “I’ll-” he coughs, “-use restraint. I won’t hurt her.”
---
“Monsters!”
“Oh no, they’re going to be so mad.”
“Taehyung was right! I swear to God-”
“So so mad, oh no, oh no no no.”
“I won’t let you get away with this! Liars! Bastards!”
“Master!”
The door opens and Jimin stands against the door frame, ignoring your irateness and addressing your new roommate with a smile, “Hey Doll.”
Jimin standing in front of you had extinguished some of your rage and replaced it with apprehension, halting your tirade for now. “You fucking lied,” you glare at him.
“It’s not locked, I’m not forcing you to be here,” He looks over your shoulder, “Right Baby Doll?” The woman nods enthusiastically back. “The chain was a precaution, I’ll remove it, I promise. We just need to set some ground rules, okay pet?”
“I am not your fucking pet!”
He moves around you, like a buzzard circling it’s next meal, “You look so much better in this instead of that ugly sea dress.”
“Don’t I look pretty?” you hear the woman’s tiny voice ask Jimin.
“Of course!”
You rub your temples, “Jimin, just take this chain off me.”
“After everything you’ve done, and you’re still trying to make demands? Do you know how incredibly lucky you are? Can’t you just show a bit more gratitude like her?”
Jimin kisses the woman and she moans against him, deepening the kiss. You rub harder at your temples. You're chained, a captive audience to what ever the hell display is happening in front of you, becoming more uncomfortable and annoyed with each passing minute.
“Seriously?”
He drapes his arms around the woman’s shoulders and stares at you, “Jealous?”
You scoff. You think back to the version of him in Seokjin’s memories, with the other woman. You remember the tenderness in his eyes as he watched her and you swallow down the lump forming in your throat. You are not jealous! And anyways, Jimin’s tenderness is all gone now.
“She doesn’t even remember her name anymore.”
“She doesn’t seem to mind,” he winks at her, and the woman giggles at your exchange.
“Her entire life has been taken away! What happened, it’s worse than death.” You hug your arms close to your body. Was that going to become you if you stayed here?
“Worse than death?” Jimin echoes your words and you notice him stare at his reflection in the room’s mirror. You stand in silence, watching him as he runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the loose strands while the woman softly hums to herself a sweet melody. She doesn’t sense the looming danger all around you and it makes your chest tighten in anxiety.
“You’re right y/n. Come here.” He holds out his hand for her.
He pulls her into a kiss, she smiles against her lips. You awkwardly shift at the exchange. She seemed happy with Jimin, even if she couldn’t remember the person she was anymore. It makes you wonder if she had resisted in the beginning or had always been this irritatingly agreeable...or maybe she even loved him, maybe her love was the only thing left in her.
Jimin holds her face in his hands, dragging his lips across hers, a spectacle of two lovers. She’s beautiful like Jimin, they fit perfectly together, a rose and a thorn.
It happens so quickly you stand stunned, you don’t have time to scream or stop him. She’s on the ground, neck twisted, dead.
You’re so stunned you can’t even cry, you just shake, fallen to your knees, staring at her beautiful lifeless face. Her red earrings dangle from her ears catching the light.
“What have you done?” Your voice sounds tiny and high, like hers.
“I saved her from a fate worse than death, according to you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
You can’t speak. He moves closer, putting a hand on your cheek, the same way he had held the woman’s head a few seconds ago. His cold finger wipes away your tears. When did you start crying?
“We aren’t liars. I’ll unchain you. So, will you behave now?”
---
You walk the halls during the sunlight. You stop by Taehyung’s door knocking four times, opening the door an inch. “I found this in the kitchen!”
“I’m...allergic.”
“Allergic to chocolate?! I-I’m sorry,” you mutter, though it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the bar yourself.
You lean forward into Taehyung’s room, he puts his chained arms over your head, and gives you a hug. He reminds you of Jungkook so much, sweet and gentle. But he’s not warm like him, he’s still a stranger to you, always dodging your questions. Namjoon’s words constantly play in your mind not to trust Taehyung. Even though out of everyone here, you trust him the most, you like him the most. Being able to spend time with him, even if your conversations are shallow and lighthearted, is the best part of your day.
“Y/n?”
“Hmm?”
“Why haven’t you escaped?” He whispers.
You play with the hem of your dress as a distraction, “I don’t know.”
He always asks you the same question and you always give him the same answer, but today Taehyung persists. “They won’t catch you if you go now! Isn’t that the whole reason you let yourself get caught?” Even though you hardly know anything about Taehyung, he knows so much about you already.
“I’m...I’m scared.”
He pats your head, you shake his hand away, lightly shoving him back. “I’m not a dog!”
Taehyung laughs, “Yeah, you’re a scaredy cat.”
“How dare you!” you hit his leg as he giggles.
“I want to show you something! It will help you when you finally escape!”
You cover his mouth with your hands, shushing him. Looking around to see if there were any others lurking around you, but no one ever comes around Taehyung. “What is it?”
“Well, um, you’ll have to come all the way inside.”
“...I can’t.” You move away from him again and lean your head against the door frame.
Taehyung sighs. “I knew you’d say that!” he whines. “Do you do everything Jimin says now?”
You roll your eyes, “Not even close,” you mutter. “And it’s not just Jimin...”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been told not to trust you...and you haven’t been very open with me, have you?” you look down at your hands, intertwined with his, you trace the gold markings along his chained wrists.
“It’s complicated,” he whispers.
“I can’t see how it could get more complicated than being a werewolf trapped in a house full of vampires.”
“It’s much more complicated,” he pulls on your arm, staring at you with pleading eyes. “Leave a shoe outside and they won’t notice you’ve come inside, I promise!”
You hum, searching for a compromise. “How about this,” you scoot over the entrance, sitting closer to Taehyung while making sure to keep your legs outside. “Technically, I am inside and also outside.”
“But the magic won’t work unless your body is fully inside here,” Taehyung pouts. “The spell on the room will clash with mine and who knows what will happen then!”
“How do you know so much about magic?”
“I can’t say…” Taehyung whispers.
Your expression turns sour, ‘What can you say...’ you think. “Well can’t you just like, Houdini yourself out of here?”
Taehyung shakes his head regretfully. “No, if only it were that simple. And please don’t ask me to explain,” he teases. Taehyung scoots behind you and pulls your body onto his lap. “Let’s stay like this for a while.”
“Okay,” you hum.
“Let go of each other!” You wake up on the floor with Taehyung cuddled to your side, one lone foot of yours still remains outside the door. Jimin pulls on your foot before you can untangle yourself from Taehyung, dragging the rest of your body into the hallway. Taehyung grunts, waking up as you’re pulled from his embrace.
You blink away the sleep from your eyes, face-to-face with Jimin, his head hovering over yours, eyes bright red with anger.
“Leave her alone, Jimin!”
“I-I am allowed to talk to him,” your words come out small and high when you finally speak and you hate it, the way your fear strangles your voice.
“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.
“W-well, t-technically-”
"You're being so unfair!" Taehyung yells. "Do you like her that much?"
“Tae, enough!” He slams the door in Taehyung’s pleading face.
There is a bang on the door, only once, so loud and strong it shakes the entire connecting wall, the picture frames wobble and dust falls from the ceiling, the sound so abrupt and booming it makes you, and even Jimin, flinch.
---
“Jimin told me you were in a...compromising position, with Tae today.” You and him watch the stars from your bedroom window, now locked.
Your stomach tightens. “Taehyung is lonely, maybe if Jimin spent time with him I wouldn’t have to,” you mutter.
“Do you care about Taehyung?” Jin’s eyes study your features, his sharp hearing picks up your heartbeat, waiting to hear any lies in your answers.
“No, I just-He’s the only normal person here.”
“Person? Normal?” Jin quietly laughs.
“A werewolf is a person too.”
“Ahhh, so you think Tae is a werewolf.”
“He is, isn’t he?” You spin around to look at Jin but his poker face is as strong as ever as he smiles down at you.
“Is a vampire a person too?”
You chew on your bottom lip, “I guess so,” you side eye the man next to you, “Deep down. Somewhere.”
Jin kisses your lips softly, carrying you back to your bed and placing you beneath him. You’ve managed to latch onto Jin since that night, a lesser of two evils. The vampire truly was a forgiving man, and even if parts of you were weakened by fear, your mind had impressively blocked Seokjin’s pull since that night as well, so he had deemed you his personal pet project, his puzzle to solve, keeping Jimin an arm’s length away from you.
Jin was nice, sometimes. And sometimes, you enjoyed his company too.
You play with his soft blond locks. You know the pain is coming eventually, so you do everything you can to distract yourself, admiring the vampire’s beautiful features before you. He pulls the deep neckline of your dress easily down your body, exposing your chest to his piercing eyes. His eyes stop on the gold piece nestled in your cleavage, like always, he ignores it. He knows what it is, what he doesn’t know is why Namjoon gave it to you.
The cold air and Seokjin’s cold fingers kneading your breasts sends you into a bout of shivers, when he drags his tongue across your skin you arch your back and push your chest closer to his soft lips. He’s so gentle with you now. Sometimes, you wish he was rougher, like the Seokjin you witnessed with Namjoon.
“Won’t you let me in again, Dove?” Namjoon’s watch falls into the dip in your clavicle, replaced by Jin's fangs as he bites the flesh of your breasts, his fingers pull at your nipples distracting you from the pain. He doesn’t drain you unconscious anymore, instead Seokjin likes to covers your skin in lovebites, taking all night with you.
“I-I can’t control it.”
“Let’s practice control,” Seokin smirks, lips stained red, and he moves his hands down your body.
He takes time stretching you full with his fingers, his lips never leaving your chest, steadily building up the pressure inside you with each quick stroke of his thumb against your core until you’re tightening around his digits. “Don’t cum.”
You tense around him, unable to successfully hold in your moans. “I can’t. I’m going to-”
“Just try, Dove.” You would hope he’d stop moving his fingers, at least slow down, but he’s steady and relentless, his digits pushing inside you in the most perfect mind-numbing pace. There’s no way you could stop your impending orgasm, but you try to hold it off, just two more three four five agonizing seconds longer. Seokjin sucks on the sensitive skin of your breast, mouth pulling as much of the mound as he can fit inside while you pulse around his digits. You feel his teeth sink deep into your flesh and his name escapes your lips in a strangled moan.
His usual dull eyes look up at you shinning with desire. “Let’s try again.”
---
“I brought biscuits.” You hold up the sweet cookies in front of Taehyung’s confused face.
“Thank you, y/n.” Taehyung gives you a bright smile and hugs you extra tight when you peek your head into his room.
“Ready to escape?”
“I-I don’t know.”
Taehyung pouts. “You’re-I'm-” Taehyung struggles to say the right words, “We’re running out of time, y/n.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just need a couple minutes with you, please. I have everything ready!” Taehyung runs to his desk, pulling together a stack of papers. “You want to see everyone again, don’t you? You friends and family?” he pleads.
Your family, you’re ashamed to admit you haven’t thought about them. It wasn’t even purposeful, your mind just had stopped wandering to thoughts of them.
Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about them anymore either, it hurt too much. The small traces of their personalities that Taehyung reminded you of had become sufficient enough as you tolerated living. “W-What do you mean we’re running out of time?”
“I think I have just enough magic to fill your necklace,” he whispers, “but if I remember correctly, that model only holds twelve weeks worth of time. How long have you been on this island, y/n?”
Your fingers clutch at Namjoon’s watch resting against your heart. Could you really rewind back time to when you never got on that damned boat! “I-I just need to take off a shoe?”
Taehyung’s face lights up. “Yeah, or something that has your scent that they can still sense, just in case”
“So the more I leave the less noticeable it would be?”
“Well, I guess so?”
You look around at the hallway, still empty like always, and pull off both shoes from your feet. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” You begin to shimmy out of your dress. Taehyung’s eyes go wide, and he wets his drying lips, then he springs into action, searching his closet for something to cover you. You pull his large sweater over your body and take a hesitant step inside.
Taehyung wraps you into his arms in a proper hug, holding you close. “I’m so happy you found me, y/n. I’m so happy.” He whispers.
He holds you tight to him, you're ashamed how affected you are by his kind gestures, you shouldn’t feel this way about someone who Namjoon told you to stay away from, it felt like a betrayal. “Don’t forget about me once you escape,” Taehyung whispers.
You melt into his embrace. “I won’t. Isn’t there a way to break the spell on the island? There just has to be! There has to be a way to save you and Yoongi and-”
“You like him,” Taehyung pouts.
“What? Who? Yoongi?!” Your face flushes hot.
“I don’t like sharing,” Taehyung mumbles into his sweater currently draped over your shoulders.
You swallow thickly. “Tae?”
He pulls away, holding you loosely, searching your eyes. During your interactions, you usually kept your attention around Taehyung, unable to focus too long on his intimidating aura and good looks, worried you'd start feeling too much for the mysterious man, worried you'd disappoint Namjoon. But now Taehyung is all around you, and his magnetism is too strong for you to resist. “Tae-”
His kiss is brief, however no less impactful, the way he pours his desires into you until your lost in a haze, following his lips as he pulls away, entranced by the small smile he shows you.
When he lifts his chained arms over your head, he pulls your necklace off as well. You were surprised how easily he removed it, when even Jimin couldn’t pull it off you (much to the vampire’s annoyance). You watched intently as Taehyung turns the watch's dial and whispers a spell in a language you can’t understand. “There, it worked, I set it to the full twelve weeks. you’ll know when to use it.” He places the watch around your neck again, his fingers cupping your cheeks and he rests his forehead against yours, content. Your face burns hot, Taehyung is so affectionate and sweet and treats you like glass.
This close, you can peer into his deep warm brown eyes, irises twinkling back at you so beautifully, it looks like gold swirls in them. “Just one more thing, and then the world is ours,” he says.
---
You sit up in your bed abruptly. Your fingers search for Namjoon’s watch as you try to steady your breathing. The hard gold feels comforting against the tips of your fingers as your eyes adjust to the darkness. You’re reminded of the night you first arrived. But gone is Yoongi’s colorful dress, the clinical white fabric of your new dress, sits tight around your body like a straight jacket and blends in with the white bed sheets.
Weren’t you just with Taehyung, what happened? You remember he told you you were running out of time. Then what happened?
You have to go find him!
You leave the bed and search out his room again. Jimin passes you in the halls, as quiet as a cat, startling you so much you almost fall if it weren't for his fast reflexes. “There you are, ugh I figured you’d be headed to Tae’s room,” Jimin frowns, “Let’s go.”
“Where are you taking me?” You fight against his grip as he pulls you in the opposite direction.
“I haven’t fed in weeks, and my favorite meal is gone because of you.”
You shut your eyes tight, trying to push away the images of the woman who haunts your dreams.
“So you’re taking her place.”
“What?!” You're doing what now? “J-Jin said-”
“Are you his parrot now? Well lucky for me, tonight Jin went to go speak with Yoongi,” he says smugly.
You step into Jimin’s room. The dresser was covered with random items that don’t seem personalized to the vampire’s taste at all. Unread books, countless jewelry pieces, and a plethora of knives.
“Don’t even think about it, pet.” Jimin warns as he sees your eyes stop on the sleek blades.
“I wasn’t,” you mutter. It was the truth.
There’s no window in his room, no mirrors, just wood furniture, covered in scratches and dents of aggression. The areas of his room, like his dresser, are littered with things, so many discarded things. The room is soulless, like Jimin, it feels like a lavish prison cell.
“So,” you don’t look at Jimin, instead you look at his things, trying to find some sense of his personality, “I guess you’re going to finally prove to me you aren’t impotent after all?” you mock. You know you shouldn't poke the beast, but Jimin is like an annoying itch you can't help but scratch.
Jimin scoffs, “Slut, can you go a night without getting fucked?”
“Can you?!”
Jimin smirks. “I'm almost going to miss that.”
You take a step away from him at his words. “What are you going to do?”
“Jin is too sentimental, he only skims the surface of his powers now. There is another aspect to a memory pull, it’s much more fun. Can you guess what that is, pet?”
You’ve been guessing and trying to make sense of everything since that night. “That woman's memories, you took them, right?”
Jimin claps his hands, slow and mocking at your right answer. “It’s not a simple task, but she was particularly compliant,” he bites his lip in memory. “She was much more willing to part with her past, her previous life wasn’t so great if you were wondering...some would see what I did as a blessing.”
The vampire stands in front of you cupping your cheek. “But I’m sure you...” his hand follows your jaw, “...will put up an impressive fight.”
You let out the breath you've been holding, if you can do what happened to Jin, maybe you can find something you can use against him. Maybe his torture won’t work on you...!
“You’re going to regret this,” you say, pulling your head away from his hand.
He laughs, “I regret not doing this sooner.” Jimin was tired of Jin's special treatment of you, all these new rules, all the things you've gotten away with when he wasn't even allowed to drink from you, follow his most basic of urges, it was annoying, you were annoying.
You feel exposed under his penetrating stare, you turn your head and hold your wrist out to Jimin, “Well? Go right ahead.” You think the inevitable has been dragged out long enough.
He looks at your wrist, lips rolling over his tongue as his fingers glide over the thin skin, and then he pulls you closer so you stumble into him, yelping. He looks up and down your body, his hair brushing against your forehead, the strands ticking you. You're supposed to hate each other, but the way he holds you and touches you, it’s too intimate, too rough and too soft for you to make sense of it.
“Do you have to ruin all the dresses we give you?” He noticed the slit you cut into your too long dress.
“Why are they so tight?” you say, watching his eyes as they roam over your exposed skin, feeling hot from his attention. You try to keep your thoughts calm, pure, so he doesn't notice what he's doing to you. “I can barely walk around.”
“Then maybe you should stay on your back,” his voice low and taunting. His free hand reaches for the torn fabric and as quick as a flash Jimin tears the slit higher up to your hip bone.
Your hands attempt to pull the slit closed in vain, and Jimin takes the opportunity to pull at the neckline of your dress, ripping the line even lower, exposing your cleavage to him. You slap him across the face, like you would have done any other man, but Jimin is not just a man, not anymore. He turns his face around and you see his fangs against his curled lip, he looks delighted, like you gave him just the reaction he wanted.
He grabs you around the waist and you feel vertigo as you're thrown across the room. You land on his bed, sinking into the mattress, and before you can scream Jimin is hovering over you.
“Your foreplay sucks.”
Jimin pulls your head back, laughing down at you.
"Get it?" you struggle to speak, “because you're a-”
You scream as Jimin finally bites the column of your neck, his body weight pressing down on you. Pain erupts and you can barely breath. His bite is somehow even more painful than Jin's, you hit his shoulders, pull at his shirt, trying to push him away to release you.
---
“What’s your name?” You can barely hear Seokjin’s voice over the trumpets of the band.
“Jimin.” He yells back.
“Military man,” the bartender nods to his uniform, “This one is on the house.”
“Thanks, um?”
“Seokjin.”
Jimin pulls his bottom lip in, studying the handsome stranger. “Thank you Seokjin.”
---
Jimin pulls away from your neck, breathing heavy. You laugh, and laugh, feeling exhilarated, eyes meeting the vampire while you laugh again. Did you just beat Jimin at his own game?
Your laughter stops when Jimin flips you on your stomach. His fingers dig into your hair, bending your back up to meet his chest. You grunt, jaw slack. “Still waiting to see what you've got, Jimin.”
You’re confusing. Jimin doesn’t even smell fear on you anymore, even when he tightens his grip. You must be feeling overwhelmed, like Jimin, who is trying to make sense of the long forgotten emotions coursing through him right now.
For the first time in a long time, Jimin feels uncomfortable, struggling to make sense of your taunts and why you aren’t submitting. Something unpleasant inside him stirs. He’ll make you regret acting like this, he’ll break you in half until you beg for mercy. He’ll do it. So why isn’t he doing it?
“Well?!”
“Fuck, you’re annoying,” he hisses into your ear.
“So I’ve been told, military man.”
Jimin knows you're goading him, yet still, blind rage courses through his veins, stinging his chest. He rips the back of your dress, tearing it down the center.
Was Jimin fulfilling a twisted fantasy you had ever since you saw Namjoon and Seokjin fuck that nameless woman senseless? Could you admit that to yourself as you feel your core become wetter as he presses his hand down onto your bare back.
You push up on your elbows, but Jimin uses his strength to push you back down, holding your head down. His sharp hearing can hear your muffled moan and the unpleasant feeling in the center of his body twists again.
"You like this?" He groans, affected by the smell of your lust. “Fuck, you act like such a desperate slut.” He palms his dick, needing a release. His moans fill your ears as his stokes himself to the state of your body.
You feel his spit hit your skin, his hard length running along your center, covering his member in your juices and his saliva. His tip teasing your entrance, you push back into him seeking more, and his hands hold you down, making you all the more feverish.
Your arousal hits the vampire’s senses in waves, affecting him more than usual as he tightens his grip to keep you still, focusing on the blood blotting your neck. His cock runs up your slit until he rests over your second hole. You look over your shoulder, prepared to taunt the vampire even more, but his dark expression, filled with carnal desire, slightly unraveled, entirely captivated by you, sends your thoughts into a tailspin.
Jimin pushes his thick length into you, stretching you over his cock, inch by inch until your whole body spasms.
Jimin stayed pressed up against you, a small kindness, his fingers circling your aching core. “Don’t-” you moan, and he stills against you, “d-don’t hold back.”
"I wasn't intending to."
And he doesn't. Your orgasm wracks through you, you feel so full and empty as your walls clench down on nothing while he pounds himself into you relentlessly. You start to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts are wild, your neck is there, you smell so delicious and he's so close to release.
When you come close again, at the peak of arousal, he bites down on your soft skin. You yell, clenching around him even tighter.
“This is your fault.”
You see Tae laugh, so unlike his usual sweet boisterous laugh, he chuckles deep, fighting against the chains around him, his wrist markings glowing gold, then deep orange like fire. “No, this is your fault. You were supposed to kill Jin, we could have had everything we ever wanted. How could you betray me like this?”
Jimin’s hands go lax around your waist, so you put yours over his, holding on as tight as you can.
You see Seokjin and Jimin under a street lamp, you and Jimin watch the way the flies dance around the bulb.
“You’re a vampire.”
Seokjin tenses, so Jimin continues, “I saw you with that girl, the regular with black hair.” His eyes scan the man beside him.
“And what are you going to do now?” Seokjin’s words come out low, almost menacing. Jimin laughs.
“Would you believe me if I said you’re not the strangest thing I’ve seen?” Breaking the awkward silence, Jimin brings an arm over Seokjin’s broad shoulders, pulling the man into a headlock. “I forgive you for always ditching me for lunch.” He teases.
Jimin releases his mouth from your neck.
You shift beneath him to look up at the vampire. Jimin’s bite wasn’t as meticulous as Seokjin’s who knew how to expertly pierce an artery, so you weren’t profusely bleeding, but the wounds still ached. Seokjin has the precision of a doctor, Jimin is messy, wild, his entire front is covered in blood. Jimin's eyes were unfocused, you could tell he was lost in thought.
“Jimin?”
“Enough,” his voice shakily commands you. “I’ll just take the part of you that keeps doing this.”
He pierces your exposed flesh once more concentrating harder.
---
Jimin is tiny. His head reaches the older woman’s knee as he hugs her leg. He points to the butterfly, wings fluttering back and forth slowly as it sits on a leaf Jimin found.
“I fixed it, see!”
“My beautiful son,” she kisses the top of his head, laughing at his cuteness. She looks weak and fragile, sunken eyes and skin pale.
“I’ll fix you too, I’ll learn!” He hugs her leg tighter. She soothes her little boy, knowing it’s already too late for her.
“Grow up to be a doctor, heal people.”
---
He pulls away from you. His eyes look wild, like an animal’s, caught. “Stop looking into my mind!” He screams.
“I can’t control it!” You’re just as stunned as Jimin, you never expected to see a version of himself so innocent.
Jimin holds you down by the neck, he doesn’t squeeze your neck enough to stop your breathing, even though he should, he thinks, he can’t do it, he can’t bring himself to tighten his grip.
“Do it again and I’ll fucking kill you,” he lies.
“I said I can’t control it, asshole!” you struggle against his hold, “Maybe if you weren’t so weak-minded-”
Jimin roars. Pressing his weight back on you, his fangs strike at the sensitive flesh between your collar bone. Your first kiss was so special to you, you could still remember it to this day. You were young, awkward and shy, he was your first crush, a cute boy, his features reminded you of one of your favorite idols at the time, who was-
What did he look like? What was his name? When did he kiss you again? It was after school, you think, you can’t remember. How did he kiss you? That’s right, it was an awkward kiss, because you and him were...friends? Weren’t you? You can’t remember, you can’t remember what had happened, it was so special to you and now it’s gone.
Jimin sucks harder onto your skin, pulling more blood out of you. He took it, your first kiss, you know he did. Jimin, if that sweet little boy could see himself now.
You start to cry. You cry for your stolen first kiss.
His teeth sink into your neck again, pulling more blood greedily, trying to silence the memories he found with the steady beating of your pulse instead. He drags his fangs across your skin, more blood releases, so much blood lost already that everything spins around you. “Jimin!”
He covers your mouth to stop your protests. Jimin seems determined to lose himself again, ravaging your body with more bites. So you close your eyes and your thoughts drift to the young boy.
“Good job!” the soft voice of his mothers fills both your minds. Jimin holds a syringe full of milk to a tiny kitten’s mouth. “You have to take care of her now, remember, treat her gently. There you go!”
“She’s so cute, momma, I love her.”
“You both have to watch out for each other when I’m not around, okay?”
You can hear Jimin whimper into your neck.
You feel sadness wash over you. He could have been a doctor, he could have been a healer. He is, in some twisted way, he been given the gift of healing, and yet he uses it to inflict pain. Even if he wanted to pretend he didn’t experience it, you felt the love that he held so dearly for his mother as a small child. You can hear his laughter, he had the same laugh as his mother.
‘Jimin, I’m going to save you too.’
---
You wake up healed, your head pounding. You look around, Jimin lies next to you, he’s out like a light. You both look like you’ve been in a massacre. Your clothes shredded and blood everywhere. You move away from him, his features look angelic, but his skin is covered in dried blood, like a killer. What the hell happened? You take a step and your legs buckle, you cry out when you knee hits the hard floor. The vampire next to you sways, moves across the bed until he falls completely out of it, groaning.
You crawl your body to the other side of the bed where he is still lying on the floor.
When you look at him again, meeting his eyes, you come to a realization. You know his secret.
“Oh Jimin...”
“Y/n...” his voice is shaky, he covers his face with his hands and his soft cries fill the room. You struggle to get up, everything feels tilted on an axis. You sway and hit furniture as you make your way to the door.
There’s a ringing in your head that won’t leave. You follow the halls down to Seokjin’s office, a place Jimin has been so many times before, retracing his footsteps from a memory of his.
Taehyung’s spell worked just as he said, opening the door to Seokjin’s office, the bright markings glowed and then burnt away from your skin, leaving a trace of ash. ‘Taehyung,’ you’ll have to deal with him later, you think. First you need to get away, as far from the island as you can and try to find Jimin’s family.
There’s a large door to the right of his desk, wood an alien shade of purple. The high pitched ringing in your ears makes the room sway again, but you’re able to grip the handle and fall through to the other side.
---
You sit on the floor of a tiny shop. There’s intricate gold pieces; statues, vases, piled high on countless of glass shelves, every inch of the shop is filled with items, it reminds you of someone but you can’t remember who. You can’t even remember how you got here. Where the hell are you? It feels dangerous, it feels wrong.
You move to a corner and hug your knees to your body. ‘Where am I? Wait, who am I?’ You try to remember anything, any memory from your childhood, from your adulthood. And the past five minutes replays in your mind instead. Gold jewelry in glass cases and the feeling that you shouldn't be here, and a deep voice in your head whispers, “y/n.”
Y/n, is that your name? Your hands skim over the fabric of your torn dress, looking for pockets, looking for anything that might explain something to you. You need to get out of here, you need to leave, but you don’t even know where you are.
You hear a ding, a bell alerting an opening door. You hear a man speak to another. You run out the door while the man behind you lets out a surprised yell to come back.
You run and you run, past buildings past people. You’re barefoot, your clothes hang off you. Eventually you stop. Eventually you decide to ask an old couple who looks unthreatening where you are while you unsuccessfully try not to burst into tears. The old woman holds your hands and strokes your arm to calm you while the husband calls the police.
At first they suspected you were a victim of abuse. They took you to a hospital. The doctors performed several tests on you, each one worse than the last. You had no old memories, and all your new ones were horrible. Clinical, painful, strangers prodding and poking your body. Your dreams were filled of palm trees and warm sunshine on your skin, a sparkling blue ocean, laughter, happiness. So you slept most of the day.
Then one day, detectives came with nurses and they told you who you were. That it took so long because you had been pronounced dead over a month ago. Your parents were on a flight to come get you. You listened to them explain the events hoping to have a jog of memory but nothing comes. They talk about the boat, the crash, no survivors. Always another horrible new piece of information. When will it end?
When your parents picked you up, a lovely man and woman who you tried desperately to remember, the hospital staff gave you a bag with the clothes they found you in. There was a gold pocket watch, an item you didn’t remember having, but you didn’t remember anything, so it didn’t surprise you. You told them to throw everything away, but you kept the watch with you.
You have to stay with them, everything in your life had been reduced to a few boxes they had kept. You lost your home, your identity, you had no money, no job, the only thing you acquired during this whole time was a death certificate.
You start remembering your childhood, slowly at first, a memory here and there, a fall and cut knee, a tea party with stuffed animals, a school field trip, and then years at a time.
You found yourself again. You remembered who you were, your entire life up until you didn’t, the memories fracturing at the end, and the harder you tried to remember how you could have ended up in a different country across the world, your mind would construct horrible images instead, blood, drowning, and death. You couldn’t bare to think of it.
---
“Y/n!” you make your way into the coffee shop, you reconnected with some old childhood friends now that you were back in your hometown.
“Hey, oh my god, who is this big cutie?” Your friend’s dog barks excitedly while you fluff the black fur on his head. He’s so cute, his ears flop to the side with each happy bark.
“Y/n, are you okay?”
“Huh?”
“You’re...well you’re crying?” She looks at you concerned.
You touch your wet cheeks. Why? You don’t know when it started, but as your friend’s dog nudges his head into your palm for more pets, your heart aches.
---
One night, a crazy thought enters your mind. You want to go back to that shop. You want answers. You leave a note for your parents telling them your intentions and pack your freshly made identification cards and travel documents into a suitcase.
So here you are again, in a foreign country, alone again, filled with purpose that seems to pull you in despite how terrified you are.
You scroll through your phone while you lie on the hard foreign hotel mattress. You open a map of where you are on your phone, and zoom out until you see water.
There's islands around the peninsula, you zoom into each one and search each name on your phone, learning each habitat, who lives there, if it is accessible. You do that to pass the time until you fall asleep.
“It’s too dangerous.”
You reach for the merman, grabbing at Yoongi’s shirt and pulling him closer, your eyes meeting his. “Explain.”
Yoongi is taken aback, licking his lips trying to think of a good way to start. "We made a blood pact to protect this island from the outside world, it's indiscoverable and once anyone does come here, they can't leave."
"Why..." you let go of his shirt, but he stays close, "Why would you do that?"
"Think, just think what you humans have done to the world...the others needed some place safe to go to and I-" the merman huffs, "At the time, I thought...well, they were...at the time I didn't mind sharing the island with them. "
Your fingers roll over the bracelets Yoongi put on you. "That was nice of you." The merman glares at you in return.
"You know, they'd come here, we all spent time together." Yoongi's stare is faraway and distant. "In the beginning, at least."
"I-I'm sorry." You hold his hand, and he stares at your fingers only briefly before shaking you off.
"Whatever, I'm surprised they didn't start trying to tear each others throats out sooner," He mutters. "We had portals of course to leave when we wanted to, but one day Namjoon and those dumb dogs destroyed all the portals-"
"What?! Why would they do that?"
"I don't know all the details, but I believe Namjoon did it to protect the rest of his pack. I can respect him for that...but the problem is they trapped us all here like idiots!"
"Is that why you're helping Jin and Jimin?"
"What? To get back at Namjoon? Pfft no. Jin came to me with a deal. He looked off, sick, and he offered me anything I wanted, so I helped him. That's it."
"So technically you can leave the island?"
"I can swim the waters, but I can only go so far, the magic always pulls me back eventually, it's useless to try," he mutters.
You hum.
"Anyways, what Namjoon doesn't know is Jin used some leftover magic and created a portal. Jin has lots of friends that serve him, owe him favors, he uses it as a delivery system."
"So you think if I?"
"That's the only portal I know of, but the magic is dangerous, the vampires put so many protections on their house, they won't even go through it themselves, there has to be a reason, right?"
"I...I'll take my chances."
"They wont even chance going through it, and you will?"
"Yes! And what if I can find a way to break the spell? Then you can finally leave! Yoongi, you have to let me at least try!"
"You're going to get yourself killed one way or another," Yoongi scoffs.
"No, I refuse to believe that."
"You're impossible to understand."
"I'm going through that portal. Then I'll come back for you."
"Wait, you'll come back?" Yoongi asks.
"Well, yeah, if you help me, a deal is a deal. Yoongi please, help me come up with a plan and I swear to you I'll come back with your payment. You're the only one who can search the ocean, you just have to find me again, so what do you say merman?"
"I'll find you again."
---
Your alarm wakes you up. 'What a weird dream,' it felt so realistic. Like all your dreams, the more you think about it, the less you remember, but that man's scarred eyes, whose name you forgot already, they stay with you.
You brush your teeth and wash your face. You notice something as you rinse off your skin. 'What the hell is that?' You inspect the gold writing behind your ear. Taking some more soap, you work to remove it but it doesn’t come off, the glittery ink is permanent. You rubbed your skin raw trying to take it off, it didn’t look like a tattoo, but nothing you did would get rid of the gold markings. You pace around your hotel room, things are getting weirder and you start to feel a nagging sense of dread, but there's a voice inside you that says to keep going until you find the answers you are looking for.
You don't walk right into the shop at first, instead casing out the place. You drink coffee at a nearby restaurant and keep watch on the shop. There are not many visitors, and those who do enter are not who you would expect. You would think maybe some older people who were looking for vintage items would decide to enter, or eccentric younger people, but it was almost always a intimidatingly large man entering, bringing items in rather than taking items out.
You’ve gotten into the habit of playing with the gold chain around your neck, the gold pocket watch had become a permanent accessory.
It's almost closing time for the restaurant, so you reluctantly make your way to the shop, and walk in after a group of tourists.
The shop looks different than what you remember, new items litter the shelves. You hide behind the large cases, studying the objects, until you come across something that makes you hesitate. A necklace with a large red gem hidden behind a thick glass case with a lock.
“You’re that girl! You...you came back.” Your head turns into the direction of the voice, a very old man stares back at you. He looks at you incredulously while you can only stare back dumbly. “C'mon, let’s go,” the old man says, he grabs your elbow. “Seokjin should be awake by now.”
“Let me go! You can’t keep me here!” You pull away from his grasp, your hand tightens around the amulet.
He laughs at you amused, giving you some space. “You walked into my shop, did you not? You don’t want to talk to Seokjin?”
“I…” Do you?! Would he know what happened to you, why does it make you shiver hearing his name.
Wait...you look down at your hand, to make sure you didn't imagine it, and there you see the necklace in the middle of your palm, heavy in your hand, you hide it behind your back, looking over your shoulder to the empty case, the shock of it makes you freeze.
The man looks at you cautiously, “Why are you here, girl? Are you here for Seokjin?”
Seokjin. That name fills you with dread. A vision of a man flashes across your mind only briefly, “I d-don’t know.” The old man raises an eyebrow at you. “Stay here, girl. I'll be right back.”
Where is he going? What is he going to do with you? Your mind spins and the skin behind your ear stings. 'Now y/n. Do it now.' that deep voice is back. You panic when the old man comes back with two others.
'Use the watch, y/n. Use the watch. NOW!'
---
“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.
As you lie on the ground you feel like the weight of the world just crashed upon you. Your chest feels like it’s going to explode, there’s a ringing in your ears, the skin behind your ear still burns hot.
Jimin noticed the sudden shift in your demeanor, the way your heart begins to race as you start to break down. Every day, starting on the night your boat was capsized, replays in your mind as you start to remember your time on the island. You see Taehyung, who looks at you and then his eyes go wide, realizing the situation, eyes ablaze with growing excitement.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Taehyung’s deep baritone voice breaks the silence. You can only take in shaky breaths as your tear filled eyes try to focus on where you are. You traveled back in time, precisely twelve weeks to the second, you’re back on the island, thrown back into your nightmare like you never left. The only difference now is your left hand clutches a second pocket watch, now broken, and your right hand clutches the amulet.
Jimin looks between you and Taehyung. “What have you done?” Jimin accuses Taehyung, whose eyes haven’t left yours. Taehyung’s lips curve into an encouraging smile, he holds out his chained wrists to you. The vampire whips his head in your direction, but it’s already too late. You throw the amulet into Taehyung’s awaiting hands. You didn’t want to give it to him, but as if Taehyung had pulled strings around your body, you complied to his silent request. The minute the gem touches his skin, the gold markings around his wrists burn away.
The explosion knocks you back meters, everything is broken, everything is dust, you can’t see and your body aches. You hear screaming and yelling and groans of pain. You crawl through the debris searching for a way out.
Red light flashes through the smoke. You choose to crawl towards it, hearing Jin’s loud booming voice.
Taehyung pulls you back, his body behind you like it just materialized out of thin air. "C’mon y/n. Let’s escape."
“This...This is all your fault!” He looked surprised by your reaction.
“What you think you know, you’re mistaken.” He lifts you to your feet easily.
It feels like the air around you is vibrating, your body feels lighter in Taehyung’s presence.
“Please let me go,” you cry.
“Don’t worry, once we escape, we’ll be fine again.” His hand holds your hip tight to his body as he drags you in the direction of the portal.
Seokjin crashes into you both, knocking Taehyung away from you. You hear their struggle, and you’re back to crawling away through the smoke helplessly. Your fingers hit the hard cold gem of the amulet, and you wrap the chain around your fingers.
You can’t remember how you found the stairs, the wood half shattered, or the exit, blown wide open by magic, you can’t remember leaving the mansion, you just remember once your bare feet hit the soft grass outside you ran and you didn’t stop running, until you heard the sounds of waves. You ran until water hit your feet and then you screamed.
---
YAY I FINISHED THIS MONSTER OF A CHAPTER (Get it? I’ll shut up). Thank god, I felt as trapped in this chapter as y/n in that damn room :’). Okay, but now we’re getting somewhere! What do you think is going to happen now? Looks like this story might finally be headed off the island :D. I’m excited!
Questions to ponder for the next chapter: What is Jimin’s secret? Looks like there was a good reason for keeping Taehyung locked away, so what is his ultimate goal? What did Taehyung do to you? And why are Jin and Namjoon no longer friends?! Those are just some of the questions floating around in my mind as I am writing the next chapter, now do you have any questions you want answers to? Let me know! <3
890 notes · View notes
nightowlfandom · 3 years
Text
Kanato Sakamaki- I’m Sadistic For You
FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTS DIABOLIK LOVERS CONTENT AAAAHHH THANK YOU BESTIE! I GOT YOUR OTHER ONE AND I’M DOING IT TOO!  
CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!
So ANON ASKS
For Kanato from DL ( I haven’t seen much done for him and it makes me sad because he’s a favorite ). (: I could Lowkey do some more if you’re not super bogged down I had another idea BUT I ALREADY SUBMITED ANOTHER BEFORE THIS SO IM NOT GONNA OVERWHELM YOU LOL but- anyway Fee free to be as nsfw with my prompts (if you do them) as you want. I dont have any triggers so- writing them super accurate and sadistic won’t bother me :3
Bruh....Jesus is my helmet...but NOT TODAY let’s fucking go! Okay readers, you heard, they aint got no triggers. So if you do...move it along.
52- “You can’t call me cute!”
80- “Shut up! I’m not blushing!”
31-“You need to be taught a lesson…”
81- “You look so...inviting all tied up.”
84- “What’s the word I’m looking for?....Pet!”
Also in this you and Yui are BFFs because she isn’t some cold hearted bitch (homegirl trips over oxygen, plus I love her lol)
I was legit about to have him spit in your mouth....I’m so shameful...maybe next time.
Leggo!
I’m turning into a Yandere account and I am totally okay with that.
...
“You know living here isn’t that bad.” you mused to Yui. “When no one is talking.”
Your friend laughed as she cut up some carrots. Yui turned to look at you as she prepare to peel some potatoes. “So living here is terrible every day other than right now?” she replied.
You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. She wasn’t wrong. 
You and Yui were making dinner for the house. After a ambush that landed everyone injured except you and her (thankfully). You had offered to make soup and stew for everyone. They were all in their respective rooms healing while you had prepared everything.
“They really fought hard today, I thought Kanato was about to rip that vampires jaw off. He’s really protective of you, Y/N.” she winked. “I think he likes you more than he lets on.” 
Kanato and you had a very strange relationship. He hated you, but he didn’t HATE you. No one could lay a finger on you, no one could even look at you, even if he said he didn’t care. Reiji tried to and Kanato almost murdered him.
“He then told me that Teddy said I was ugly.” you reminded her flatly. “Yeah he so cares.” you snorted.
“Maybe he has trouble telling you his feelings”
“I wish everyone was as optimistic as you.” you shook your head. “Looks like the soup is finished.” 
“I’m just saying Y/N, just think about it.”
...
You only had one bowl of soup left to deliver, to Kanato’s room. You grumbled as you stood outside the door. 
“Kanato? It’s me.” you knocked on the door. “I’m coming in okay?” 
Before you could wait for an answer you opened the door and walked in with the cart. 
Kanato was laying on his bed when you entered, groaning in what you assumed was boredom.
“Teddy, tell Y/N that I don’t want whatever she made.” Kanato turned away from you. The scars he had suffered on his back said it all. All for you...
Your recalled the terror in your voice as you had screamed for help as the rogue vampire wrapped his claws around your leg. Kanato’s name was the first to escape your lips as you had tried to crawl away to Yui. You remembered reaching out to Kanato with your strongest hand, begging him to save you.
The look in his eyes was feral as he screamed your name too, grabbing you hand and pulling you to him. You were sobbing into his chest, clutching onto him for dear life for a good ten seconds before Yui replaced him, hugging you tightly in her small arms too. Before you knew it, the rogue’s head had been thrown through a window...
...
“Y/N, Look at me! You’re safe now...you’re safe with me...”
...
“Teddy, could you please tell Kanato that while his pouting is very adorable, it won’t get him out of this?”
“Don’t call me cute! You can’t do that.” Kanato glared at you through hooded eyes. “If I wasn’t so weak I’d-”
“Well let me take care of you.” you cut him off, taking the bowl to him. “For me?”
Kanato paused, his glare softening. 
“You must be in love with me if you’re so insistent on me getting better.” he grumbled, sitting up. “Y/N is in love with me Teddy!”
“Kanato.” you felt your face heat up violently. “Don’t say things like that.” you groaned.
“It’s blushing teddy, how cute!”
Kanato’s use of the word ‘it’ wasn’t new to you. In fact when he wasn’t calling you names, chasing you around with forks pretending to stab you, or worse, it was denoting you to objects.
“H-hey! I am not blushing!” you pouted. “My face just looks that way.” you lied. “S-shut up.” you grumbled.
“And what if I don’t feel like it?” he challenged, knowing you wouldn’t say a word back. You were kind of like Yui. You wouldn’t dare challenge any of the Sakamaki brothers. It was a death sentence in every sense of the word.
“Kanato, I just want you to feel better.” you looked down at your feet. 
“There’s one thing you can do.” Kanato used his strength to stand to his feet. Despite his looks, he was tall, and under that cute exterior was a mean and feral beast. He staggered over to you, a sick smile on his face. That couldn’t be good, not by a long shot. 
“And what exactly would that be?” you asked. You couldn’t look at him. You didn’t wanna know what he was planning. You were positive that it wasn’t gonna end well either. 
“Get on your knees.”
“My knees?” you repeated. “Why do you want me to-”
“Now Y/N.” he spoke over you. You felt his hand on your shoulder. “I don’t like repeating myself.” his nails dug into your skin, causing your knees to wobble under the pain. “On. Your. Knees!”
Your feet gave out, practically sending you crashing down to the floor. You looked like a dog, on your hands and knees. You appeared weak and pathetic.
You found it in yourself to look up at Kanato. Teddy was perched on the bed, ‘watching’ you two. You felt his fingertips creep under your chin. 
“Aww...” he smiled. “You’re like a little...What’s the word I’m looking for...PET!. It’s cute.” He caressed the side of your face. “Too bad I kill all my pets...they can’t handle me...can you handle me, Pet?”
“Yes, Kanato.” you found yourself saying. You felt like you didn’t have a choice...
and you loved every second of it.
“Bullying you has made me regain my strength! Isn’t this wonderful?” he wrapped one of his hands around your neck. “You’re so fun to torment” he laughed.
“K-kanato.” you coughed.
“Is it hard to breath. Y/N?” he asked sinisterly, that crazed smile gracing his lips. His words were terrifying although his actions said otherwise. He loosened his grip on your throat, allowing air to flow more freely. It was those small things that made you think he didn’t hate you as much as he loved to preach.
“Y/N...when that vampire came...I thought I was gonna lose you for good this time” he said sadly, allowing his arm to return to his side. “I thought I had-...that you were gonna die.” 
“You saved me though.” you replied. Kanato knelt down to your level, still slightly above you. 
“Yeah...because if anyone is gonna break you, it’s gonna be me.”
“I care about you a lot, Kanato.” you finally said it. “I like you too much.” you exposed yourself. “I want you stay by your side.” you said pathetically. “Even if you hate me.”
Before you could say another word, Kanato claimed your lips in a kiss. He held the sides of your face in his hands. It was the first time he had ever kissed you. He hummed thoughtfully, pushing you down to the floor so you were laying on your back. He crawled over you, not breaking the kiss. 
“K-kanato.” you whimpered.
“You need to be taught a lesson. If your gonna be my girlfri- I mean pet, you’ll have to learn.” he kissed down your neck.
Suddenly, Kanato ripped the seam of your jeans all the way up your left leg, leaving it completely exposed to the air.
“Oh look, your clothes are messed up, guess we’ll have to take them off.” he smirked. In another swift motion, your pants were torn to shreds. The fabric fell in a circle around you both.
“Teddy look! Y/N is wearing such cute panties.” he cackled maniacally. “Her naughty place is leaking.”
You trembled, waiting for him to do whatever it was he was planning.
“I heard blood tastes better when it’s from your naughty place.” he ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth. “Y/N” he moaned, running his index finger along your clothed heat. “You smelled so much better here...I just want to- ungh.”
He suddenly drove his fangs into your right thigh. You gasped, arching your back. He violently grabbed your legs, holding them down. His tongue lashed against your freshly made wound. 
You could hear him whimpering, cursing under his breath. 
Kanato would deny it with his life, but everything about you was like a drug to you. Tasting your blood was even sweeter than every dessert he’s ever tasted. Feeling you whimper and plea for him did things to him that would make a sailor blush. 
Forget Yui, forget his brothers, forget it all.
“Fuh-” Kanato couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stop himself from ripping off your panties and driving his tongue into your most sensitive parts. Hearing you moan for him, cry for him. 
The rumors were right, vampires were godly lovers. It was like Kanato knew what you wanted and where. He lashed his tongue against your heat, grabbing your legs. 
“Wrap your legs around my head,” he demanded. “Not like it’s gonna kill me.” he laughed manically. “
Knock knock
“Y/N, are you in there?” Yui’s small voice caused you to panic a little. As you tried to get up, Kanato pushed you right back down, growling into your pussy,
“FUCK!” you whined, making it very obvious what you two were up to. “Kanato, I can’t-”
“Then don’t.” he grunted, not ceasing his movements. “Cum, cum for me.”
“K-KAANAAA!” you cried as you came. You thrashed and writhed under his touch, but he didn’t stop. His tongue never stopped moving. “fuh- fuck! Kanato, t-too much!”
“I said cum for me, I didn’t say I’d stop.” he thrust his fingers into you to add insult to injury. “You’re so fun to fuck with!” he spat.
“Kanato!” you sobbed. You couldn’t stop moving, you couldn’t stop thrashing. Th epleasure had gotten to you so much, you were drooling.
He finally withdrew his mouth from you, smiling evilly at the mess he left.
Kanato had grabbed one of his ties that had left on the floor and bound your wrists together.
“You look so inviting tied up for me...” he shuddered as he bit his lip. He licked his fingers clean of your blood and juices. “Good thing the night is young...because I’m not done with you.”
...
700 notes · View notes
haadeswrites · 3 years
Text
Elysium
god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished
Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader
tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw
The island itself is breathtaking
Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it. 
Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child. 
He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.
A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well. 
As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”
Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.
You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call. 
And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse. 
They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.
‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’ 
You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.
So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.
And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined. 
Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.
“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.
You’d like to hate her. 
It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.
“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.
“I always go,” you reply.
She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?” 
And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 
“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.” 
Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”
It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.
“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?” 
Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.
“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”
Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression. 
“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;
“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”
A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet… 
No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–
Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”
She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.
Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following. 
Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading. 
And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.
Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.
For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.
You can’t forget the reason you came.
But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home. 
And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions. 
It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain. 
Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.
Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him. 
Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–
Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.
‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’
Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.
You can deal with the fallout later.
Kiyoshi. 
He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.
Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part. 
There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours. 
From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.
It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”
Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”
A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.
Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.
Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 
While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.
You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well. 
Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for. 
As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to. 
Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.
Every inch a king and his general.
And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.
Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.
Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight. 
Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 
“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him. 
Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”
“Thanks.”
Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.
But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight. 
Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.
You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”
He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.
Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion. 
So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.
“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”
“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”
Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering. 
Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”
He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.
The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms. 
An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night. 
That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–
Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?” 
You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”
“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”
“Oh, um- Ryuji.”
Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”
He looks you right in the eye as he says it.
You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be. 
Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–
Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?
“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.
And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”
Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach. 
Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.
Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”
You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves. 
“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more. 
“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”
But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”
Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”
“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”
Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”
Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.
And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–
“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”
The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.
–But not to lie down.
There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.
You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.
And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.
You and Ryuji.
He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach. 
For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head. 
Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river. 
If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–
“Lost?”
The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.
Slowly, you turn. 
Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.
A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.
Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–
You’re tired. 
Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.
… Right?
A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”
The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north. 
In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night. 
And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?
A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.
And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore… 
You should have stayed on the beach.
“Can I ask you something?” 
“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.
Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.” 
Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.
If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it? 
And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–
A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.” 
An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.
“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”
You have no response to that, so you do.
The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island. 
As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.
The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment. 
You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage. 
It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.
Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. 
Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.
“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”
Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side. 
True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly. 
“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.
Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 
Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.
Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?
Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.
Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.
Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.
It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.
The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.
“Come,” a familiar voice calls.
You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.
“Go on.”
And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.
Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.
It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first. 
No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.
How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable. 
“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.
His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.
“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”
You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.
It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.
“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.
He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.
“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–
His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.
“Aren’t you happy here?”
Yes.
“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out. 
Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes. 
There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.  
A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”
Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise. 
When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.
It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.
It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.
None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–
The door opens.
Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually. 
Time slows. 
Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at. 
Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally– 
Finally, you’ve found Ryu.
There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.
Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.
“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.
Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–
He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.
It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.
“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”
Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound. 
He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.
Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”
His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.
Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips. 
It wasn’t him. It was never him. 
“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”
The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.
And you’d still come when he’d called.
Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.
“Iwa.” 
The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.
Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care. 
“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.
He isn’t wrong though. 
Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch. 
“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 
Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.
Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again. 
Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.
“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”
Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”
You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to. 
Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?
You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.
“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”
You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.
His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”
Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you. 
Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.
Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter. 
This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–
A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”
With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.
The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.
It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most. 
Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–
Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.
With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood. 
Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.
The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.
Death begets life, just as he promised.
And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.
There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.
Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.
Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.
“Look, look!” 
A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.
“Do you like it?” she asks. 
Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”
The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.
At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him. 
“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”
You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”
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chaos-burst · 3 years
Text
one way or another (i’m gonna get you)
Dorian has a problem.
That problem is currently drunk off his ass and trying to balance one of Opal’s daggers on the tip of his nose. Of course he’s failing miserably, hitting himself in the eye with the blunt end twice thus far and maybe Dorian shouldn’t chuckle about it, but Dariax just keeps trying as Opal and Fearne edge him on.
“If you’re not careful you’ll stab your own eye out”, Orym says. He’s still nursing the same beer he started drinking an hour ago, probably to stay sober enough to stop any shenanigans that go too far.
“Oh, don’t worry about that, buddy. That already happened to me, like, three times, and I just healed it back together. No big deal.”
Dorian can see that Orym is at a loss for words.
“Dorian, do you think I can do it?”, Dariax calls over to him where he’s sitting, holding his lute and enjoying the warm evening breeze.
“Sure, Dariax. I’ll write a song about you if you do”, he says with an amused smile. Dorian tries to keep his smile from widening as Dariax beams at him and tries even harder.
All his life Dorian has been taught to be proper and well behaved—maybe that is why he feels drawn towards—well. Towards the group. The group that Dariax is also a part of and that Dorian definitely doesn’t feel drawn towards more than any of the others.
He starts moving his fingers mindlessly over the strings of his lute as Dariax stumbles backwards, falls over Opal’s outstretched legs and lands in her lap with the dagger clattering to the ground in front of them.
Dorian thinks about Dariax sitting on his lap, then he almost chokes on his own spit because so far Dariax hasn’t done anything even remotely appealing or attractive. He’s had shit on his beard, piss on his hands, he’s dirty and loud and so obnoxious.
But when he told Dorian that he’s the handsome one and that he’s just good at talking to people and whether Dorian wants some tips from him—Dorian was tempted. For a split second, he was thinking about Dariax offering to teach him how to flirt.
Because Dorian might be aware that he’s handsome, but he has exactly zero idea about how to flirt with people.
“Hey, Dorian! Do I still get a song?”, Dariax shouts, still half sitting in Opal’s lap.
“Sure, buddy. I’ll write you a song.”
“Cool! It’s a promise!”, Dariax says, thumbs up, a big grin on his handsome face.
There, Dorian can admit it.
Dariax is handsome. They’re all handsome. It’s really no big deal. Not at all.
Dorian tries not to think about what his parents would say about Dariax, because it’s completely irrelevant. It’s not like his parents will meet his friends, and especially not Dariax. Maybe he should go to bed and hope that come the next morning his circling thoughts will have stopped.
“Are you working on the song?”
Dorian blinks and turns his head, only to come face to face with Dariax who managed to get up from Opal’s lap and is now sitting right next to him, leaning way into Dorian’s personal space.
Dariax smells like ten different kinds of alcohol, leather and thankfully no bodily fluids, which is definitely an improvement. Dorian wishes that the fact that he’s seen this man with shit on his beard would dissuade his heart from beating a little faster every time Dariax grins at him.
Sadly his heart doesn’t care.
Neither does his stomach, which is currently doing all kinds of complicated gymnastics since Dariax invaded Dorian’s personal space.
“No. I don’t think I can concentrate in here while all that is going on”, Dorian says and gestures towards Opal who is now teaching Fearne how to do body shots.
“Aw, man. Can you play something? Something...hm. Something cool.”
“All my songs are cool, thank you very much!”
Dariax laughs.
“Yeah, okay, you’re not wrong there. You have a really beautiful voice, buddy. No wonder that goliath lady fell in love with you after like, three minutes!”
Dorian feels something that reminds him a lot of the feeling he gets when he’s falling or misses a step on some stairs. His heart starts doing an offensive little tumble and he clears his throat a little too loud as he leans out of Dariax’ space and clutches his lute as if his life depends on it.
“I don’t think I would know what to do if someone actually fell in love with me”, Dorian says with an embarrassingly shrill laugh and a second after the words have left his mouth he regrets them already.
“Aw, buddy, I told you—I can totally teach you a few tricks, you know? Just show you how to get real popular with the ladies. Or gents. Or people in general”, Dariax says and winks at him.
Dorian wishes he could turn into thin air. His cheeks feel very hot.
“I—uh. I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s not like I really have the time—“
Dariax snorts and raises his eyebrows.
“Oh, come on, Dorian. We’re just hanging out, right? If you wanna get laid, we have plenty of time for that. You should just relax a little more. Okay, so. What’s your type?”
Dorian stares at Dariax for almost thirty seconds before he clears his throat again.
“Uh. I—don’t. Well. Adventurous. Maybe—uh. Maybe brunettes?”
“Adventurous brunettes? That’s pretty vague, buddy. Just saying. Wait a second!”
Dariax leans closer again and puts his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. Then he does a terrible shout-whisper into Dorian’s ear that shouldn’t give him goosebumps but, fuck, it definitely does.
“Are you into Orym?”
Dorian blinks and turns his head to stare at Dariax who looks as if he just found out an earth-shattering secret through some careful investigation.
“N—no! No, he’s not. I mean, Orym is—fine? I don’t, uh—what I meant to say is... I don’t really know what my type is”, he ends lamely.
Of course Dariax feels the need to put an arm around Dorian now.
“Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll get you laid in no time. You have a pretty face and voice and all that, pretty sure that’ll go easy peasy.”
“That’s really not—“
“Hey guys, what are you whispering about?”, Opal shouts.
“We’re trying to figure out what Dorian’s type is to get him laid!”, Dariax shouts back.
“No, that’s not—“
“Ohh! Interesting! You don’t have a type? Did you never have a relationship before? Wait—are you like, a virgin?”
Dorian abruptly gets up from his chair. He’s definitely not drunk enough for this.
“I’m going to bed”, he says and leaves the room in a hurry, ignoring the disappointed shouts of his new friends following him outside.
*
Dorian hopes that his friends have forgotten the whole thing about supposedly getting him laid and about how Dariax intends to teach him flirting. But unfortunately the universe decides to not do him this favor.
Suddenly, every remotely attractive person they pass invokes a whole litany of questions.
Opal, Fearne and Dariax want to know everything. Which height, body-type, eye color, temperament, and style of clothing does he like? Does he prefer any genders to others? On six different occasions, Dariax tries to wingman Dorian into asking random strangers on dates.
Dorian is so desperate that he considers just telling them that he actually has someone back home, just so they will leave him alone.
It wouldn’t be the first lie he told.
Dorian feels a pang of guilt for lying about his name to these people who keep fighting alongside him.
Orym, bless his soul, is the only person who doesn’t partake in these interrogations and at some point, after Opal had asked Dorian if he was more into “tits or asses” Orym had quietly stated that “he deserves his privacy, you guys”.
Dorian has no idea if he’s a “tits or asses” kinda guy.
But Dorian just can’t stop thinking about the way Dariax’ voice sounded when it lilted “Man, you have the prettiest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen” the last time they were drunk.
It seems weirdly typical and ridiculous that Dorian has to have his first crush on the most chaotic man he ever met.
Dorian wishes he could forget about those damn words, just like everything that happened in their first week.
“You know”, Orym says to him two nights after that cursed conversation as they’re making their way further south towards Byroden, “if you told them to stop in earnest, I think they would respect that.”
The landscape is a carpet of green, sloping hills, rolling fields that lie bare now that winter is closing in around them. The sky is blue and cloudless and as they talk their breath puffs up in front of their faces and vanishes shortly after.
Dorian looks at Orym and then pointedly turns his gaze at Opal and Dariax, who started making a list of their findings regarding Dorian’s type.
“You sure?”, he says with one eyebrow raised.
Orym looks at least as pained as Dorian feels right now.
“I see your point. But they’re not—you know. Not bad people, I guess. I don’t think they want to hurt you.”
“Well, they’re not hurting me, they’re annoying me to death!”
Orym pats him on the back in a way that is so pitiful, Dorian can hardly take it.
“I wouldn’t usually encourage lying, but maybe you could just make up a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or—“
“What if I just tell them that you’re my type”, Dorian interrupts and Orym blinks at him.
“Uh—“
“No offense, you’re not. Not that you’re not handsome or anything, I just. Well—“
“It’s fine”, Orym says with a snort and shakes his head with a disbelieving smile. “You don’t have to fuss about it. You’re also very handsome but not my type.”
Dorian tries not to be offended after the last kick to his ego in Gilmore’s shop and clears his throat.
“Okay, so. What about it? Will you be my—I don’t know. My fake boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on, Orym, I’m desperate here!”
“I will not be swept up in all of that. I still think you should just try to talk to them.”
Dorian feels betrayed and huffs, but he doesn’t press the issue any further. It’s probably going to be fine, he thinks. That is, until Dariax walks up to him, grins up at him cheekily and bumps his elbow into Dorian’s side.
“So. Are you finally ready to admit it?”, Dariax asks.
There is a glint in his eyes that Dorian can’t quite read.
“Admit what?”, he asks, already dreading the answer.
“That you have the hots for Orym!”
Dorian stares down at Dariax, the man he, so, so very unfortunately has “the hots for” and sighs deeply.
“You caught me”, he says with a gravelly voice. “I have the hots for Orym.”
“I knew it!”, Dariax shouts, then catches himself and turns his voice into a whisper instead. “I fucking knew it!”
Dorian massages his temple.
Maybe becoming an adventurer was a terrible idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. He could make a name for himself somewhere else. The Menagerie coast is supposed to be lovely all year around.
“Okay, don’t worry, buddy. I gotcha. I’ll keep your secret, won’t even tell the girls at all. And you know what, because we’re such great friends I have a special offer just for you”, Dariax says and leans in even closer to Dorian, who has to lean down significantly.
“And what offer is that?”, Dorian asks with a sigh, resigning himself to his fate. At least Orym knows that Dorian isn’t actually attracted to him, so, he thinks, this can’t possibly get any worse.
“I should totally be your fake boyfriend so you can make him jealous.”
Dorian stares at Dariax.
Dariax stares back with the proudest grin on his handsome face.
The universe is trying to punish him. For whatever reason, it must have decided to make Dorian the butt of a cosmic joke. That’s the only explanation for all of this.
“I don’t think that’s—“
“It’s perfect! Don’t worry, I have experience with this sort of stuff, just lemme handle this.”
Dariax winks at Dorian and then grabs his hand to intertwine their fingers.
“Hey guys”, he calls as he pulls Dorian along who follows helplessly, his heart stumbling in his chest as his consciousness zooms in on the feeling of Dariax’ hand in his, “guess what. I should’ve clocked it all along, but of course it makes perfect sense! Check it out!”
And as Orym, Opal and Fearne turn their heads, Dariax raises their intertwined fingers and beams at the others.
“Wait…”, Orym starts slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion, “what…?”
“Too late, Orym. He’s my boyfriend now”, Dariax says and Dorian wishes that the wind would just pick him up and carry him away.
*
Dorian has to say something.
He can’t, under any circumstances, keep this up.
He is sitting—and gods, his heart is beating so terribly fast—on Dariax’ lap.
Dariax had insisted on it and now his muscular arms are wound around Dorian’s waist as if this is the most normal thing in the world. For someone who doesn’t actually have to breathe to survive, Dorian feels a little bit like he’s suffocating from the staccato inside his rib cage.
They made camp close to a rock formation that, according to Fearne, looks like a pig with wings. The night smells of snow, but Dorian feels hot despite the cold.
He doesn’t know what to do.
He knows it even less when Dariax’ hand finds one of his and just casually starts rubbing circles into the back of his hand with a thumb. Dorian can feel Orym’s eyes on them and sadly that edges Dariax on even more because he thinks his plan is working.
“You know”, Dariax says and sounds way too casual about it, “I can’t believe how lucky I got. Pretty sure you’re the most beautiful person I’ve been with so far, Dorian.”
“I—uh”, Dorian says, then somehow forgets how to speak. His cheeks feel incredibly hot even though he doesn’t sit remotely close to the fire.
Orym cocks his head and suddenly his eyes turn a little too wide for Dorian’s tastes.
Dorian doesn’t want anyone to understand anything about this disaster.
“Well, I would certainly love a boyfriend who tells me nice things like that”, Opal sighs dreamily. “Or—you know. Maybe a girlfriend. Who knows. I certainly don’t.”
She laughs a little too shrilly but Dorian doesn’t have the mental capacity to think about it anymore because a tingling sensation is running through his body and crawling along the underside of his skin as Dariax’ fingers just keep on gently, way too gently, drawing nonsensical symbols and circles on Dorian’s hand.
“Well, I just know what’s good. I make a great boyfriend”, Dariax announces with a smug undertone to his voice. The sad thing is that Dorian can’t even disagree.
So far, Dariax has been nothing but—well. There is no other word for it. Gentle and accommodating. He also started flirting with Dorian and his flirting only ever got tasteless twice during the last twenty-four hours.
He has offered to carry stuff for Dorian, held his hand, given him way too many compliments for Dorian’s poor heart to handle, helped him climb over some rocks and purposefully took a hit for Dorian in combat earlier today while shouting “Not my boyfriend, you ash-hole!”.
If someone had told him that Dariax makes good boyfriend material, Dorian would have scoffed at them.
But now.
Well.
Now he’s in even deeper shit, because this doesn’t help his feelings at all. It does the exact opposite of helping.
Gods, Dorian wishes he could kiss him.
“Well, I am certainly—uh. Happy? For you two”, Orym says with a pointed look at Dorian. Dorian tries to tell Orym that this wasn’t his idea with his eyes alone, that this is the worst, that Dorian definitely needs saving, but he doesn’t think anything gets across because the moment that Orym says that and looks at Dorian, Dariax seems to decide that he can’t have Orym looking at Dorian like that.
Dorian makes an embarrassing screeching sound as he is dipped backwards on Dariax’ lap. There is a very handsome, dwarven face with glinting eyes right in front of his when he opens his eyes again.
“Just go along”, Dariax whispers and before Dorian can protest or even just try to catch up with what’s happening, there are dry, warm lips pressed against his mouth and Dariax is closing his eyes.
Dorian’s brain is blank for a few seconds, then it kicks into overdrive, much like his heart that seems eager to jump right out of his chest and into the campfire. Dorian can’t fault it, because he, too, would love to jump into the campfire, never to be seen again.
Dariax is holding him with one arm while his other hand is resting on Dorian’s cheeks where Dariax’ thumb starts rubbing circles again as he kisses Dorian.
Dorian wants to run away.
He wants to kiss back.
He wants this to be real.
Dariax doesn’t actually want to kiss him. He only does it because he’s pretending, there is nothing real about any of this, no matter how nice and exciting his warm lips feel against Dorian’s.
Dorian pushes him away, clambers up from his position, trying very hard not to fall as he stands up, and steps away from Dariax hastily.
“I—ah. I need to. Pee. Yes. Pee. I’ll be—uh. Later!”
And he walks as fast as he can without breaking into a run.
His lips are still burning after he stops walking without even seeing where he’s going. It’s dumb. All of this is so incredibly dumb.
Beautiful eyes, beautiful voice, beautiful person.
Dariax really has to stop saying these things.
It’s already enough that Dorian developed this stupid crush after such a short amount of time on the road. It’s stupid that it had to be Dariax of all people—couldn’t it have been someone reasonable? Like Orym?
Couldn’t it just have been no one? Or a nice, noble lady that he impressed with his songs and good looks?
No.
He’s standing in the middle of nowhere, his heart beating rapidly in his chest with no clue where he even is or what he’s doing. The trees around him are leafless and bare, stretching towards the dark sky like skeletal silhouettes. Dorian doesn't know what to do.
Dariax kissed him.
He had his first kiss with a complete and utter maniac of a person. His lips are still tingling and gods, he wants to kiss him again and again and again—
“Dorian! Doriaaan!”
Dorian turns around and wipes at his face that feels weirdly wet.
Gods, he hates everything and everyone right now.
Dariax comes to a halt in front of him, his breath coming quickly and holding his compass rose.
“Okay—wow. Your legs. Are so. Long. You’re so. Fucking fast”, Dariax huffs and puts his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.
Dorian looks at him and can’t decide whether he wants to kick Dariax in the shin or just run away further.
“So, uh—sorry. I got a little carried away and I kinda—uh. It was brought to my attention that it wasn’t very cool of me to just kiss you without asking if that’s okay with you. So—uh. Really sorry about that, shoulda thought about that before I—uh. You know.”
Dariax scratches the back of his head as he looks down at Dorian’s left knee.
“It’s—well. Yeah, I suppose a little warning would have been nice. It’s—uh.”
Dorian stops and wipes at his face again and when he looks back up Dariax is studying him, his gaze intense and uncharacteristically serious.
“Wait—wait a second. Was that your first kiss?”
“No! I mean. Yes! Sort of! Maybe!”
Dariax gapes and Dorian wishes the earth could swallow him up whole.
“Oh fuck, buddy, man, that’s. I’m really sorry, I didn’t—damn. I really fucked that one up, huh?”
Dariax looks so earnestly mortified at what he’s done that Dorian can already feel how he’s forgiving him, how he finds it endearing, how his heart swells in his chest like the idiot that it is.
“It’s not such a big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just—uh. Maybe we should talk about all of this stuff before… you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, totally. I swear I’m usually not a creep or anything, it was just… you know. The heat of the moment, or something. So…”
Dariax is scratching the back of his head again and swallows before he shoots Dorian a lopsided grin.
“So. No kissing and stuff like that, huh? Just the hand-holding? Hey, maybe a hug or something?”
Dorian stares at him and he could swear that Dariax’ cheeks are a little redder than before, which, Dorian supposes, comes from his embarrassment about his earlier fuck-up.
As long as they’re doing this fake-boyfriend gig, Dorian could kiss Dariax whenever he wants. Because apparently Dariax doesn’t mind that one little bit. He might never get the chance again to kiss him if he says no now.
So Dorian does something incredibly stupid and impulsive and maybe it’s even a real ash-hole move. In this tiny moment in time he decides to be selfish.
“Kissing is fine. Uh—you know. You’re not that bad at it, I guess”, he says and laughs which sounds terribly false in his own ears but Dariax perks up and throws him a reckless grin that makes Dorian’s heart stumble in his chest.
“Ha! You just wait for it, I’ll kiss your brains out before you know it!”
*
Dorian might be addicted.
He knows that this is all a ruse based on a misunderstanding but gods, kissing Dariax is so good.
And Dariax somehow makes it seem as if he’s just as into it as Dorian is, because he keeps kissing him all the time. Of course, it never happens when they’re alone and only when Orym is in more or less close proximity but if Dorian isn’t careful he’ll start believing that they’re actually boyfriends sooner than later.
Dariax is so good at pretending.
He kisses Dorian as if he never wants to kiss anyone else. He holds Dorian’s face in his hands as if it’s something precious. He kisses Dorian breathless and at more than one point Dorian had to stop him because he was getting a little too into it and he’s afraid of overstepping any boundaries.
Dariax promised that he would kiss Dorian’s brains out and it’s absolutely working. On the seventh day on their journey south they get so caught up in making out that they don’t realize that the others have gone to find a camping place for the night.
“We should—uh. Probably follow them”, Dorian croaks and stares down at Dariax’ lips.
“Hmhm. Yeah. Probably a good idea”, Dariax mumbles. Then he kisses Dorian again.
Dorian gets lost in the sensation of tongues sliding against one another and the feeling of Dariax’ hand cupping his cheeks. Dorian slides his hands into Dariax’ hair and buries his fingers in there, something that provokes a sound from Dariax. A sound that gives Dorian goosebumps all over his arms.
He wants to hear it again. He wants to touch more. He wants, he wants, he wants—
Dariax pulls back, his eyes glassy, his breathing labored.
“I—uh. Ha. I got a little carried away. Sorry. What do you say about checking where the others went?”
“Sure. Yeah. Great idea. Let’s go.”
He steps away from Dariax and stuffs his hands into his pockets to keep Dariax from reaching for them. This is a complete and utter disaster.
Dorian knows that he should stop it.
He shouldn’t abuse Dariax’ trust like this and keep up his pretense when all that Dariax wants is to help Dorian make Orym jealous.
Which has, of course, not worked in the slightest, but Dariax insists that it’s just because Orym is such a rational and level-headed guy.
“We just need to wear him thin, you know.”
Dorian doesn’t know.
He feels like he doesn’t know anything anymore.
When they finally reach the campsite, Fearne has placed her head in Opal’s lap and seems to be napping as Opal carefully braids her long, green hair.
“You guys alright?”, Orym asks with his eyebrows raised. Dorian feels himself flush and clear his throat.
“More than alright”, Dariax answers and winks. The implication makes Dorian’s cheeks heat up even more.
He didn’t think that Orym’s eyebrows could climb even higher, but that’s exactly what happens as he regards the two of them.
“Dorian, can I talk to you for a second?”, Orym asks and gets up from the log he was sitting on. Dorian shoots Dariax a glance and he seems… off.
Dariax doesn’t return Dorian’s look, he just walks over to the fire, lets himself fall down next to Opal and asks, way too loudly to be necessary “So what’s for dinner?”.
But Dorian doesn’t have any time to think more about this, because Orym grabs his wrist and pulls him towards a group of trees, away from the campfire and away from Dariax whose eyes seem to bore themselves into the back of Dorian’s head as he follows Orym into the night.
“What are you doing?”
Dorian doesn’t have to ask what Orym means. He wrings his hands and stares at the ground.
“I—uh. I don’t really... I don’t really know?”
“So when you said adventurous and brunette, what you actually meant was short, stocky and a complete disaster?”
“I—um...”
Orym looks at him with raised eyebrows and despite the fact that Dorian is so much taller than him he suddenly feels very small.
“Well. Dariax kind of got it into his head that I’m into you. Which I’m not.”
“Yes, we established that.”
“Exactly. And. Well, he thought it would be a good idea to be fake boyfriends to make you jealous.”
Orym’s eyebrows rise even higher towards his hairline.
“But I’m not jealous. Because you and I are just friends.”
“I know, okay? It just kinda got out of hand?He’s so—I don’t know! I don’t know what to do!”
Orym sighs and rubs his temples.
“So. You’re actually into Dariax?”, he asks.
Dorian presses his lips together and takes a deep breath before he nods.
“And he doesn’t know. He thinks you’re into me?”
Dorian nods again.
“And now he’s waiting for me to get jealous and for us two to be boyfriends?”
Dorian shrugs helplessly.
“Isn’t that... I don’t know. It seems like lying to him.”
“What do you want me to do? Just tell him that I have the hots for him and then leave the country forever?”, Dorian hisses.
“Well, maybe he has the hots for you, too!”, Orym whispers back and Dorian can’t help but laugh. It sounds a little hysterical.
“Then why would he offer to help me to get with you?”
Orym stares at Dorian for a full thirty seconds. Then he sighs.
“I guess it’s a little hard to... fathom... what goes on in Dariax’ head.”
“That seems like an understatement.”
Orym scoffs and shakes his head with half a smile on his face.
“I can’t believe you actually fell for—that.”
“Hey!”
“Sorry. I guess to each their own.”
“So what’s your type then?”
“Uh—I don’t really have a type. I’m not into the whole relationship stuff. Or—uh. The sex stuff, for that matter.”
“Oh. Oh! I see. Well, that seems pretty convenient. Way less stressful than what I’m doing with my life.”
Orym smiles and shakes his head again.
“I’m not going to lie, when I’m watching you and Dariax or Opal and Fearne I am glad that I don’t have to deal with any of it”, Orym admits.
“Opal and Fearne? How do you mean?”, Dorian asks. His brain is still stuck on kissing Dariax without Orym even being in any close proximity. His whole brain capacity seems to be occupied by thinking about Dariax. It’s an absolute clusterfuck.
“Never mind. So, what do you intend to do? You can’t keep this up forever”, Orym says and pulls Dorian away from a trail of thoughts that was leading towards something explicit and utterly unbefitting of a talk with a good friend about feelings.
“I—uh. I’m still figuring it out. I’ll just. You know, I could just tell him that I’m not into you anymore and then he would probably stop”, Dorian says and ignores the uncomfortable tightness of his chest as he thinks about not being able to kiss Dariax anymore. Or hold his hand. Or being told that he’s beautiful.
He’s so fucked.
“I think you should just tell him, you know? We’re adventurers now, no one knows what might happen. If I learned anything from our Voice of the Tempest, it’s that you should do your best to live without any regrets, because time is a precious thing”, Orym says.
“A weird soup”, Dorian answers, his voice weak and his heart hurting. Orym snorts.
“Yes, sure. A weird, precious soup. Anyway. Think about it, okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
*
Something is up with Dariax.
Dorian has no idea what it is, but there is definitely something wrong.
He’s quieter than usual, which is disconcerting. He’s also, very definitely, holding onto Dorian’s hand way tighter than before.
“Hey, is everything alright?”, Dorian asks him quietly as they’re getting ready for the night. The sky overhead is dark and full of clouds and the moon is barely visible.
“Yeah, sure. Stellar”, Dariax says but he’s not looking at Dorian.
“You don’t look stellar”, Dorian insists and puts his hand on Dariax’ shoulder. Dariax’ eyes flicker down to his hand and then up to his face. Dariax opens his mouth to answer, but Dorian doesn’t hear anything because there is a searing pain on his back and he slumps forward and crumples onto his knees.
His vision goes blurry from the pain and he can feel that there is something coursing through his body. It hurts.
“Dorian? Dorian!”
Lying down seems like a great idea. What if he dies now and he didn’t even tell Dariax that he’s not into Orym? What if his adventure ends here already? He doesn’t want to sink into the weird soup that is time already. He wants…
“Take your hands off my boyfriend, you fuckers!”
“Hey! What’s going on?”
“Dorian, are you okay?”
He is definitely not okay and while he probably should have different priorities as he’s bleeding out in the grass, all he can think about is the fact that Dariax just called him his boyfriend.
“Dorian, are you okay?”, Dariax’ voice sounds muffled and far away.
“Heh. You’re really good at pretending”, he lulls as he’s turned onto his back to look up at Dariax’ face.
“What? Guys, I think he has a concussion or something!”
“Well, heal him!”
“I’m trying! Dorian, hey! Buddy, don’t pass out on me, okay?”
“Did you know that your eyes are really pretty?”, Dorian slurs and he wants to raise a hand to touch Dariax’ face that seems way too red all of a sudden, but he can’t move a muscle and as he feels Dariax’ warm healing magic flow into him, he passes out from the mind-numbing pain.
*
Dorian has never shared a bed with anyone. Neither in a platonic nor in a romantic or sexual way.
When he wakes up there is someone plastered to his side. The quiet snoring tells him that it must be Dariax.
“Are you okay, Dorian?”, Fearne’s soft voice reaches his ears and he turns his head to see her sit on his other side, her hand places closed to his shoulder as if to make sure that he’s within reach.
“Uh—ow. Yeah. What happened?”
Dorian tries to concentrate on his own body and on Fearne’s words, but he’s distracted by the feeling of Dariax sleeping so close to him. His arm is thrown over Dorian’s chest and his face is pressed into Dorian’s shoulder. Orym is nowhere to be seen.
“Those Nameless Ones seem to have a pretty far reach. They really want that spider crown.”
Dorian groans as he tries to move.
“They hit me with poison or something?”
“Yeah. Dariax fixed it. Then he insisted on carrying you back to the cart. Then he insisted to tuck you into bed. And then he just sort of flopped down next to you and stared at you really intensely until he passed out.”
Dorian tries to laugh but almost chokes on it as he imagines this short man trying to carry someone as tall as Dorian. His thoughts circle around the fact that Dariax cared for him, healed him, tucked him into bed.
“So. Ah—where are Orym and Opal?”, he asks to distract himself from the feeling of having Dariax pressed so close to him.
“They’re checking to see if we’ll be safe for the night. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
Fearne smiles down at him and starts scratching Little Mister under the chin as she hums a melody that Dorian’s never heard before.
“Did you ever have a really dumb crush?”, he asks before he can stop himself. Fearne turns her head to look at him again and cocks her head.
“A crush that was dumb because it wasn’t mutual or a crush that was dumb because the person was dumb?”, she wants to know.
“Ah. Huh—I haven’t thought about it that way. I guess… how about we go with both?”
Fearne puts her index fingers to her lips and cocks her head from side to side as she thinks about it.
“Well, I don’t think crushes are dumb just because they aren’t mutual. And I also think that Opal is very intelligent in her own, special way.”
Dorian blinks.
“Wait. What?”
“Hm?”
“You have a crush on Opal?”
“Sure. I thought it was pretty obvious”, Fearne says and smiles dreamily.
“Uh—maybe. Now that you mention it, I think Orym clocked it.”
“She is just. You know. Very exciting and spontaneous and funny and creative and pretty.”
The way that Fearne just talks about her crush makes Dorian wonder why he isn’t able to just say it like this. That he likes Dariax because he’s funny and brave and adventurous and a complete idiot in a lovable kind of way.
“What do you like about Dariax?”, Fearne wants to know.
“Uh—well”, he laughs nervously and clears his throat. Dariax is still softly snoring into his shoulder. “I guess… I guess pretty much everything?”
“That’s so sweet! And that’s what he said too. You guys just fit so well”, Fearne says with an earnest smile.
“Wait. What?”
“Hm?”
“What did you just say?”
“I said that you guys fit really well.”
“No. No, I meant before that.”
“Uh—well, when I asked him what he liked most about you, he also said that he likes everything about you. I thought it was really sweet, you know? There was a whole list of things, but he stopped midway through it and said ‘So basically, everything’.”
There was a whole list of things.
A list.
 “So basically, everything.”
“Dorian? Are you really okay? You look a little flushed.”
“Hm? Oh—yeah. I’m fine. Perfect. Peachy. Never better.”
He laughs nervously and glances over at Dariax as his insides dissolve into small, hyperactive butterflies. Maybe it’s not what he thinks. Maybe Dariax meant that he likes everything about Dorian as a friend.
“If you’re sure you’re okay I think I’ll stretch my legs a little bit. This cart is pretty small”, Fearne says and scoots towards the exit of the cart. Little Mister follows behind her and a moment later Dorian is alone with a snoring Dariax, whose hand has somehow managed to sneak under Dorian’s shirt.
What is he supposed to do now?
Wake Dariax up? Confess his feelings?
His heart beats so quickly that Dorian is almost afraid that it might just leap out of his rib cage. In the end he’s not brave enough to wake Dariax up and instead intertwines their fingers and turns his head to look at Dariax who has definitely drooled onto his shirt.
He knows that he’s completely fucked because he thinks that this is endearing.
Dorian raises his arm and gently cards his hand through Dariax’ hair.
Dariax makes a small sound in his sleep, something that sounds like a content sigh, and the butterflies in Dorian’s stomach start dancing happily.
“D’you really think my eyes are pretty?”, Dariax mumbles a second later and Dorian pulls his hand away hastily as Dariax’ eyes open.
“Um—well. Yeah. They’re… they have a very nice color”, Dorian croaks. Dariax pulls his hand out from under Dorian’s shirt and starts rubbing at his eyes.
“You okay again?”
“Yeah. Thank you for saving me. And carrying me to the cart. And—uh. Tucking me in.”
Dariax’ cheeks redden as he coughs slightly before sitting up.
“Well, you know. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”, Dariax says with half a laugh in his voice that doesn’t sound completely genuine.
Dorian swallows and bites his bottom lip as he tries to find the words. He’s usually not bad at talking, so why does this seem so endlessly hard?
“So—uh. I have something to confess”, he starts as his thoughts start spinning around in panicked circles. Dariax turns his head to look down at him.
“I know, I know”, he answers.
“Huh?”
“Well, I figured, you know. When Orym dragged you away I thought you guys probably had a talk?”
“We did, yeah”, Dorian says but he is endlessly confused about what that has to do with anything.
“See, I knew it. So you think it finally started working, huh? Told you, I’m really good at this kind of stuff.”
Dorian decides that he has to sit up for this. His head is spinning and his heart is racing and he is endlessly confused about what in the ever-loving hell is going on.
“Working? What are you talking about?”
“You know, the jealousy thing.”
Dorian stares at him.
Then it finally clicks.
“Dariax… I don’t want to be fake boyfriends anymore”, he says quietly before he can think of a better way to say it. Dariax’ expression twists and he looks away, his hand reaching for the back of his head to scratch at his scalp—a sign for nervousness, as Dorian knows by now.
“Yeah. Okay. I—uh. That’s—“
“I want to be your real boyfriend.”
Dariax blinks a few times. Then his face turns the deepest shade of red that Dorian has ever seen on him.
“You—what?”
“I don’t like Orym. I never have. Not like that. I—uh. I like you. And when—if—I kiss you again I don’t want it to be just pretend, I want to really kiss you. Because I—uh. I really like kissing you.”
Dariax is still staring at him, seemingly stunned. The hand at the back of his head has stopped moving and started to sink slowly back into Dariax’ lap.
“So…”, Dorian says and the nervous energy humming under his skin is almost unbearable, “can I? Can I… kiss you? For real?”
If Dariax doesn’t say anything soon Dorian might have to flee from the cart and actually leave the country. The suspense is torturous, his words hang heavy in the air between them. And then, faster than Dorian can react, Dariax lounges himself at Dorian and kisses him so passionately that Dorian can’t suppress the moan that escapes him.
Dariax pushes at him, shoves Dorian back down onto the bedroll, sinks one hand into Dorian’s long hair and cups his face with the other.
Dorian’s brain goes blank as he arches up against Dariax’ weight on top of him.
“So, is that a yes?”, he pants into the kiss.
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes”, Dariax rasps and kisses him again. “Gods, you’re so pretty. I thought I was going to go insane.”
Dorian makes a very embarrassing noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Maybe he likes those compliments more than a normal person would.
“So you like me?”
“Are you kidding me? So fucking much.”
Dariax is kissing his whole face now and Dorian wraps his arms around him. He feels light as a feather and the butterflies in his stomach have gone completely off the rails.
“Are you guys decent?”, Opal shouts from outside the cart.
“No! Go away! I want to make out with my boyfriend!”, Dariax shouts back and Dorian laughs.
“Don’t leave any icky spots though!”, Opal says.
“Oh, come on”, Dorian hears Orym protest.
“That’s what Prestidigitation is for, Opal! Read a book about magic!”, Dariax announces loudly and Dorian has no time to protest this obscene exchange because Dariax is kissing him again and Orym seems to be dragging Opal away from the cart.
“So do you know what that means?”, Dorian mumbles against Dariax’ lips.
“Hm?”
“I don’t need any flirting lessons from you after all.”
593 notes · View notes
bratkook · 3 years
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cozy thief. (m) jjk
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pairing. jeon jungkook x reader genre. smut, fluff, mutual pining word count. 5.1k warnings. roommate!au, cuteness!! lots of kissing & heavy petting, hand in pants action and messy/needy humping from jungkook lol  summary. a rainstorm knocking out your power is the small push needed for confessions to come tumbling out author’s note. requested for #30 from this prompt list! thank you for sending this in 🖤 (requests now closed)
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The bubbling water is the only thing you focus on as you rest against the countertop, hands tightly holding onto your fluffy blanket of choice to trap all of the warmth in before it could escape. The rhythmic pattering of rain against the windows has become background noise now, already accustomed to the sound that woke you up hours ago.
It’s therapeutic really, your fuzzy socks sliding along the floor as you pull out your favorite mug, grabbing the hot chocolate mix and mini marshmallows from their rightful spot in the pantry. You don’t even think about the ridiculous electric bill you’ll be getting from how high you currently have the heater cranked up, freezing to death was not worth saving a few bucks. 
Jungkook would agree, loving the fact that he didn’t have to worry about walking around the apartment in a snow coat and scarf. Sure you were currently bundled up as if the place wasn’t maintained at a steady 75 degrees, but from the time spent living together he had grown to learn that the minute there was rain or snow you would pull out the coziest blankets regardless of temperature. 
“Can you make me one too?” He speaks up as he leans against the mini island, smiling when your blanket clad body jumps at the unexpectant sound of his voice. 
The spoon clanks against the mug as you stop stirring the hot chocolate, turning your head back to take a peek at your roommate. “Don’t scare me like that.”
Jungkook laughs now, pulling up the sleeves of his shirt as he rounds the island to grab himself a mug. “What, should I wear a bell around my neck to let you know when I’m nearby?”
“Yeah actually, you sneak up on me all the time. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day.” 
You eye his mug of choice, a Friends one that actually belonged to you, a little hard to believe considering it was the one he always used without fail. It was admittedly your fault for forcing him to binge watch the whole show on Netflix before it got taken off, but for someone who claimed he couldn’t stand it all he sure did cradle the themed mug with utmost care. 
“You’re easy to scare, can’t blame me for seeing an opportunity and taking it.” Sliding the mug in your direction he rests on his elbows, observing you as you pour in the hot water, mixing the cocoa powder and smiling when you get the first inhale of it. 
“Scare me some more and I’m revoking this mug privilege.” Jungkook knows it's an empty threat, the roll of his eyes calling your bluff so you just sigh, clutching the bag of mini marshmallows and bringing them close. “Yay or nay for the marshmallows?”
“Yay, what do I look like, an animal?” He scoffs, hand urging you to top off his drink with more sweets, a charming smile spreading out onto his face when you slide the mug over. 
Just as he’s about to take a sip you walk off, both hands cupping your drink as you slide your way out of the kitchen. “Wait, where are you going?”
You freeze at the doorway, turning around with a confused face, “To binge watch some movies in the living room? The vent by the couch makes it the best place to get toasty.”
“Mind if I join you?”
The audacity of him to ask as if he didn’t regularly crash your binging parties, still you nod your head before turning back around and continuing your trek, hearing the soft patter of his bare feet against the floor. 
“Why did you beg me to get you those cow slippers for your birthday if you refuse to wear them?” You wonder as you settle onto the couch, adjusting your blanket to circle around your lap as you bring your knees up. 
Jungkook sighs dramatically as he sits beside you, bringing his bare feet up and shoving them underneath the pile of blanket around you, laughing loudly when you yell at the feeling of his cold feet against your silk pajama pants. “Because they’re cute, besides I don’t need slippers because my roommate has the best blankets.”
Accepting your fate you simply glare at him, detesting the way he could look as good as he does while attempting to push your buttons. The smug smile against the rim of the mug shows that he knows he can get away with it, a playful wink being the icing on top as he reaches for the remote. 
You ignore the way your heart skips as he clicks onto your profile, already sorting through your favorite movies, knowing they were starred and saved under your list. As he passes Legally Blonde you gasp, almost undetected but he had been waiting for any reaction to know what to pick. 
“You know, this has become one of my favorite movies now.” He quietly confesses, pressing play and setting the remote down onto the coffee table. 
“Seriously?”
Jungkook hums as he takes another sip, eyes focused on the beginning scenes of Legally Blonde. This was definitely one of your comfort movies, even if he didn’t end up crashing your movie night he could still hear each scene from his bedroom, almost knowing every single line from how often you played it. 
He proves his point as the movie continues, the two of you slowly sinking further into the couch, no longer caring about him using your blanket as makeshift slippers as you laugh each time he recites a line, adding his own commentary as he goes. The mugs of hot chocolate are drained dry, pushed onto the coffee table, freeing up his hands that somehow wind up playing with your own in a mindless motion, slowly tracing down your fingers to gently clasp them together before pulling apart and repeating. 
Just as Elle Woods takes the floor to question the witness, the entire room goes black, Jungkook’s hands freezing on top of yours as you wait for a moment. With the loss of power you instantly feel the warmth begin to fade away, the vent right beside the couch no longer providing you the toasty escape you wanted. 
“It was getting to my favorite part.” He groans out, resting his head back onto the couch, something you can just barely see in the darkness. 
“Fuck is the whole block out of power?”
Jungkook pulls his hand away from yours as he stands up, knocking his knee into the coffee table and laughing as he tries to navigate through the dark living room. His silhouette makes it to the window, peering through it to see if maybe it was just your building that was shit out of luck, but the entire block is in fact dark. 
“Yup, it’ll probably come back soon though.”
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After two more hours and another mug of hot chocolate it became very clear that the power wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Both of your phones lay screen down with the flashlight on as you finish up your drink once more, tightening the blanket around you now that the cold is becoming more prevalent. 
“We’re gonna freeze to death.”
“No we’re not, it's a rain storm not a blizzard outside. We should probably call it a night though, the floors are getting cold as fuck.”
He had still refused to put on his slippers, allowing the cold tile from the kitchen to turn his feet into icicles. “You act like you don’t own socks or slippers.”
Jungkook merely waves you off with a laugh, grabbing his phone from its spot on the counter. “Let me live, good night!” His flashlight sways with every step, illuminating the trail before he disappears behind his bedroom door, leaving you with no other option than to retreat into your own room. 
The door shuts behind you with a soft click, the rapid pattering of the rain against the window filling up the space and its no longer as therapeutic as it used to be now that you can feel the cold it brings with it.
Lighting up the candle on your nightstand, hoping the smell of gingerbread will convince your mind you’re not freezing, you settle into your bed. The feeling of your cold sheets against you has you whining, quickly pulling up the blankets at the end of the bed to warm you up as you ball into yourself. 
It's only a few minutes later that you hear the gentle knocking against your door, the top of your head just barely peeking up from the mountain of blankets as Jungkook peers inside your room. The words he wants to say leave him when he takes note of the way you're being swallowed whole by different patterns. 
“Holy shit, can you even breathe?”
“You wish you were this comfortable.” You laugh, tightening your grip on the blankets and pulling them snugly under your chin. 
He shuts the door behind him as he steps further into your room, smiling when he gets the whiff of your candle. “That's actually why I’m here, can I steal a blanket?”
The idea of parting with even one of your blankets sounds like a sin, a frown etched onto your face as you contemplate it. “If you think I’m gonna give you one of these after you refused to use the slippers I bought you, you’re crazy.”
“C’mon,” he whines, sitting on the edge of the bed and toppling over to bury his face against the warmth, fingers clutching on when you try to wiggle him off of your legs.
“No, if you take one you’re gonna fuck up the balance I have going on right now.”
“Fine,” he grunts, but just when you think he’ll give up he starts to crawl over you, long limbs making their way to the other side of the bed. You feel the cold instantly as he peels off the comforter from the right side, making himself right at home as he slides underneath it in search of warmth. “We’ll share then.”
With the way he shimmies around, finding the best position to get comfortable, you know there's no way you can shake him. He smiles into the sheets when you grumble out a fine and turn over, not trusting yourself to be able to stare at his face from a close proximity and do something you’d regret. 
A soft exhale leaves your lips as you force your eyes shut, ignoring the pounding in your chest as he inches closer so his legs don’t slip out from the blankets. You and Jungkook were roommates, and friends now underneath it all, but before you had crossed into friendship territory you realized you had a teeny tiny crush on him. 
When you had first moved in he had a girlfriend, a girl you rarely ever saw since he preferred to go to her place, so it helped tame down the crush. But once they broke up and he began spending all of his time at home, the small bursts of his personality you would see lit that crush back up. It was always hard to tell if the way he behaved around you was just the way he normally acted or if he maybe had a small interest in you as well. 
Forcing your mind from wandering deeper into fantasyland you nuzzle further into your pillow, pulling more of the blankets with you as you try to fall asleep. Jungkook feels the cold nip at his exposed ankle, huffing and flipping over to look at you with a small smile, the stolen blankets bundled around you nice and tight. 
“Steal the blanket again and I’ll put my cold feet on you.” Is the threat he makes as his fingers clutch onto the top layer of blanket and tug it back. It's a threat you don’t take lightly, gaze narrowing as you turn your head to glare at him. 
“You wouldn’t…”
His brows raise up at the challenge, jaw ticking out as he looks at you and before you can even react, he’s attacking, maneuvering himself around until he’s skillfully slipping his cold ass feet underneath the hem of your pants. You feel the cold instantly, a squeal of protest leaving you as you try to kick him away. 
“Who the fuck sleeps with no socks in this weather!”
“Me, which is why I need the blankets you thief!” He laughs out, continuing to try to yank the blankets back now that you were distracted, pulling the soft fabric out of your fists as you start to admit defeat. With a small cheer of success he pulls the warmth up and over the both of you like a little fort, his eyes crinkling up in a smile as he stares at you, now positioned right on top of you. 
Small pants escape your mouth as you slow your breathing, wide eyes blinking up at him as he refuses to move. The bed dips on either side of you as he holds himself up, lips still spread out in a smile, getting wider when he sees the way your eyes flicker down to them before looking back. 
You wanted to kiss him, he knew this, had known of your crush since the very beginning. Jungkook had taken note of the way you would stumble over words whenever you spot him leaving the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, enjoying the flustered look on your face, that being the main reason he did it so often. 
You thought you were slick, letting your eyes trace over the lines of muscle until it slipped behind the towel, but he simply let you get away with it, meeting your flustered gaze with that bunny smile you had grown to love. But as he hovers over you now there's no way he can pretend he doesn't notice the way your starry eyes stare at him, how you subtly lick your lips over. 
With a small tilt to his head he finally breaks the silence, whispering gently inside of the little cocoon he had made. “I really want to kiss you.” 
That gets him the reaction he wanted, the small gasp filling the air as your mouth drops open a tiny bit. “What?”
“Your lips look so soft, wanna kiss them.” His voice drops to a murmur, slow and husky as the words drawl out. 
He wants to kiss you, something you’ve been dreaming of for months, and now your mind is betraying you as it struggles to unscramble the words needed to respond. 
“Can I?” He asks, soft eyes looking directly at you and when you nod your head he tsks in disapproval, “Need to hear you say it love.”
The pet name makes you melt into your sheets, finally giving him a response as your brain releases your voice, “Y-yes, please kiss me.”  
Jungkook smiles in appreciation before slowly inching forward, nose gently nudging against yours as he swoops in. Your eyes flutter shut when the softness of his lips press against yours, kissing back instantly at the first touch, your mind whirling at the intoxicating feeling. Jungkook can feel his heartbeat quicken when you let out a small sigh, your shy hands gaining courage and sliding up his sides until you’re cupping his face. 
He winces at the icy feel of your fingers on his cheeks, the soft breaths of his laughter making you smile in between kisses, teeth knocking together as it begins to turn messy, the two of you just wanting more of each other now that the line has finally been crossed. 
Jungkook lets you bring him in closer, balancing on his elbows as he slots himself between your thighs, the soft smacks of your lips blending in with the light crackle of the candle and the rain from outside. 
A gentle nip of your teeth on his bottom lip earns you the first groan, the second coming when you trace your tongue along the seam of his mouth, slowly licking your way inside until it’s gently tangled against his own. Jungkook can feel his heart thrumming in his ears now, the realization that he was finally kissing you making his entire body warm up. 
The way you had behaved with him, calling him bro, punching his shoulder whenever he told jokes in an act to force yourself from ruining the friendship, made him believe that this would never happen. He didn’t want to come across as the typical cocky boy who swore he could win everyone over but the way you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers moving to grasp around his neck to bring him even closer when he unconsciously rolls his hips into yours makes him feel like he just did. 
Your wishful thinking had been true, the sweet gestures he did in day to day life stemming from the small inkling of a crush, something that had been planted the minute he started spending more time at home and around you. At first he thought nothing of it, chalking it up to enjoying spending time with his new friend, but soon enough he discovered he preferred to stay in with you, join you on your random quests to hunt for a new place to eat at, ignoring any other girl who showed any interest in him. 
As the two of you continue to kiss inside the small makeshift fort, the air becomes stuffy, Jungkook pulling away with a small laugh. “Wait, can’t breathe.”
You let go of his neck and paw the blankets off your faces, the cool air of your bedroom finally being welcomed as you catch your breath. 
“Better?” you question, smiling when he nods at you. “Good, now kiss me again.”
He doesn’t need you to tell him twice, lips cutting off the end of your sentence urgently, feeling the way you smile against him, your leg hooking over his hips like second nature. Jungkook feels like his head is spinning, the way your fingers move to rake along his hair, the soft gasps and sighs passed between you, he feels like a goner, the tipping point being your hips rutting up into his. 
Both of you pause at the sensation, Jungkook moaning into your mouth as your clothed core grinds along the slowly growing erection pressed against you. “Y/N, don’t tease me.”
“Why?” you breathe out, pressing kisses along the side of his mouth and jaw as you repeat the motion, the usual fear of him not feeling the same long gone from your mind. 
He drops himself further until his face is buried in your neck, goosebumps flaring out as his breath hits your skin when he speaks. “I’m trying to be sweet.” he murmurs, kissing your neck softly. 
“You are being sweet,” you whisper, tightening your grip around his hip, smiling when he groans while you once again rut up into him. “Am I not being sweet? Just wanna make you feel good, Kook.”
Of course you were sweet, you always have been, it was the main reason his heart started to skip around you, why he clung onto your mug like a safety net, wanting to keep a small part of you with him. If you wanted to make him feel good he was in no position to refuse, wanting to reciprocate the sweet gesture instead. 
Jungkook lifts his head up, dark waves falling over his face as he stares at you, wanting to see the look on your face as he gives the first roll of his hips into yours. He sees the way your teeth bite down onto your lower lip, pillowing the soft flesh out, mouth opening up to let out a gasp as he repeats the motion. There's never been a time where he’s been more thankful for a power outage than right now. 
“Keep going,” you urge him on, sighing beautifully when he rocks against you again, hips nudging the leg hooked around his waist higher up with each slowly thrust. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He sighs, taking a moment to fully admire you laid out underneath him, eyes sparkling as you stare up at him, mouth slightly parted as you groan at the small tingles of pleasure starting up inside of you. 
“Wanna feel you.” The confession hangs in the air for a second, the trailing of your hand down his covered chest, fingertips tickling along the sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of his sweats, is what finally brings him back. His moment of admiration being broken as your hands slips past and gently grasps his hardened cock, the expected feeling of his underwear nowhere to be found because not only did Jungkook refuse to wear socks he also refused to wear underwear. 
Your eyes widen at his size, already a nice handful and slowly growing the longer you hold it in your palm. As you give him a small pump you feel the exhaled grunt he lets out fan across your skin, his eyes falling shut as he pants out your name. 
Jungkook gasps as your palm rolls over the head of his cock, thumb rubbing along his slit and dragging the beads of precum down his length. With a shaky hand he trails down your chest, slipping past your pants and underwear. A pleased hum escapes him as he feels how wet you are, fingers sliding along your folds, collecting your arousal before coming back up to circle around your clit. 
“Fuck,” you gasp, hips jutting up at the tiny jolts of pleasure that spark each time his fingers circle around your bundle of nerves. This was definitely not how you thought your night would play out, still partially thinking you’re dreaming with your roommate asleep beside you but each time you blink the visual of his face inches from yours only gets clearer. 
“How's this?” he whispers, eyebrow cocked up as he waits for a response, the tantalizing motion of his hands making your mind scramble once more, back arching up towards him as he applies a bit more pressure. Jungkook knows what he’s doing, the way his fingers find the right rhythm to leave you whimpering only to slow down right after, just because he likes the frustrated look etched onto your face. 
A pout forms on your lips, your hands tightening their hold on his cock as you give him the same treatment, and as you slowly glide your palm down and back up, fingers refusing to go near his tip he groans in vexation. 
“You’re not being nice.” Is what you manage to gasp out just before he picks up his pace once more, lips coming back down to yours in a hungry kiss, swallowing each moan as you let them out. Each pant through his nose is felt against your cheek as your own hands pick up the pace, the two of you working in tandem as the desperation starts to grow within you. 
Jungkook wishes he could see you fully, not cocooned under a mountain of blankets, and for a split second he wants to suggest pulling them off entirely but the way the cold nips at your faces kills that idea on the spot. This would just have to do until the power came back. 
“Ah shit,” he keens out in between sloppy kisses as your hands trail further down to fondle his balls, the beginning feelings of his climax creeping up embarrassingly fast. He couldn’t help himself, for months now he had wondered what it felt like to kiss you so this whole situation put his mind into overdrive. 
You were on the same boat, the warm sensation spreading throughout you as his fingers continue to pinch and roll around your aching clit. “Wait, fuck I’m close,” you whimper out, chest rising and falling rapidly as you pull away from his mouth, a small string of spit connecting you together. 
“Really?”
“Shut up don’t make fun of me,” you protest, gasping when he starts to kiss and suck along your neck. 
“I’m not,” he mumbles, his hips rutting into your palm, fingers fisting the sheets beside you. “I’m close too.”
The whiny tone to his voice has more wetness gushing out, further ruining your underwear and Jungkook feels it as he fingers glide against your skin. That's enough to spur him on, quickening his pace with just the right pressure until your limbs are tightening up, back arching as your free hand clutches Jungkook’s shoulder. 
“Don’t stop,” you plead, and he has no intentions to, smiling against your neck as your hand stutters along his length as the pleasure you feel coursing through you. Each roll of his fingers has you seeing stars in your dimly lit room, whines getting breathier each time until you’re finally coming undone with a cry of his name. 
Jungkook feels the mess you make against his fingers, gently biting your skin as he starts to rut into your palm, the small twitches your body makes as he continues to tease your sensitive nub only making his need to cum grow. 
“Y/N,” he mewls, pulling his hand out of your pants once you hum at your name, your palm trailing up his shoulder and into his hair to gently run through it. “Wanna cum.”
You bite your lips at his words, pulling your own hand out of his pants and he cries out at the loss of contact, face lifting up from your neck and the prettiest pout on his lips that you kiss away. “Cum, use me Jungkook.”
He eyes you for a moment, a subtle nod of confirmation being all he needs to slide down his sweats a bit until his cock slips out, a small sigh filling the air at being released from its confines. He licks his lips over as he grasps his cock, resting it along your core and sighing at the smooth feeling of your pants, the silk slightly cold against him, the small wet patch along it only making him shut his eyes. 
When you widen your thighs for him to slot more easily he starts to rut forward, leaning back over you with his palms beside your face once more. Jungkook pants at the sensation, the gliding of his cock against your covered pussy, the small whines you let out each time he nudges against your clit, it kickstarts his climax once more. 
“Feels good,” he grunts out, head bowing forward and pressing against your chest as he picks up the pace, hips knocking into you each time, beads of precum dampening your silk pajama set and mixing with your own arousal. 
Jungkook doesn’t care how needy he looks right now, humping you like a desperate teenager because that’s exactly how he feels. 
“Yeah, are you gonna cum for me Kook?” you whisper, caressing his hair until he’s looking at you once more, face screwed up as he teeters close to the edge. 
When he nods eagerly you hook both legs around his waist, his mouth dropping open as he moans out unabashedly. “W-wanna feel you fully next time,” he grunts, jostling your body from the force of his thrusts, your pants wrinkling up around your thighs. 
“You will,” you confirm, wanting nothing more than to actually feel his cock without the confines of clothes and blankets. “Once the power comes back.”
He chuckles at that for a second, smiling at you through the dull glow the candle provides but then his face twists up, brows pinching and jaw going slack as his hips grow sloppy. 
“F-fuck,” he drawls out as his orgasm washes over him, hips rutting against yours with less grace than before, spurts of his warm cum splashing along your pussy and onto the small patch of skin above your waistband as he works himself through it. You sigh at the feeling, cupping his cheeks as your thumbs soothe him down. 
Jungkook continues to rock against you until he’s whimpering in overstimulation, panting as he stares down at you with the dopiest smile. He turns his head to kiss at your hand by his cheek before bending down to press his lips against your in a gentle kiss. 
“Did we just get to third base?” he whispers against your lips after the two of you fully come down, laughing when you swat at his side playfully, your own laugh filling the air as he pulls back to stare at you once more. 
Suddenly your room fills with light, the two of you squinting at the brightness, the sound of the heater kicking back is followed by the warmth from the vents beginning to flow through. 
You don’t even have to look at him to know what face he’s making, your promise of letting him fully feel you once the power came back flooding his mind. “No Jungkook,” you laugh, pushing his face away from yours as he inches closer like a child. 
“Why not?”
“Because you ruined my favorite pajamas.”
He laughs freely now, kneeling up until the blankets slide off his body, his eyes staring down at your pants and analyzing the mess the two of you made. “I mean, you ruined them first.”
Okay he has a point, but instead of agreeing you simply raise your foot up and nudge it against his chest until he topples to the side, allowing you to stand up from bed with no fear of the cold attacking you. Jungkook smiles against your sheets as he watches you grab new pants and underwear before slipping into your bathroom, emerging a few minutes later with a pair of snowman printed pants instead. 
“You wanna go finish Legally Blonde?” he asks, head perched up by his hand as he lays on his side, that charming smile on his face. 
“It’s like two in the morning.”
He shrugs, not caring about the time at all, just wanting to spend more time with you, already knowing the two of you would most likely end the night having a discussion about more than obvious feelings after what just happened. 
After staring at him for another moment you smile too, reaching your bed for the same trusty blanket you hand earlier and wrapping it around your body. But as he stands up from your bed you extend your covered up out for him to join you, a smile of success gracing his face. 
“Wow, you’re actually sharing with me.” he coos, leading the two of you back out into the living room. 
“Watch it, I’ll take it back.”
Jungkook simply wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side before you sit onto the couch. “I know you will you cozy thief.”
3K notes · View notes
rayofsunas · 3 years
Text
s/o has a mental/nervous breakdown.
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A/n: hello everyone! I hope your day is going alright, and that you’re doing well 🥰 I recently hit 300+ folllwers, like Sunday morning, and omg, that was the best thing to wake up too 🥺❤️ thank you those new and old for following and taking a chance with my account and sometimes trashy works 🙃 I’m gonna make a longer post at some point saying my thanks and discuss what I plan to do to celebrate 300 followers. It would really mean a lot to me if you guys chimed in if you have any ideas, after all, this is a thanks to you and I want you all to be involved! also, if you saw my recent rambles about how a draft was deleted, it’s referring to this post... what I had written got deleted TWICE in the span of FIVE MINUTES. gosh I was so pissed, I almost screamed. mobile tumblr is not it 😔 but here we are. I hope you like this. I tried to write this three times.... 🤡 also, since I am not a doctor or anything, I put a link to possible symptoms/what a “mental breakdown” is, that’s in the warnings, just click the link, it helped with my accuracy. 
Summary: s/o has a mental/nervous breakdown.
Parings: Xiao/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader, Albedo/Reader, Childe/Reader (all fem reader)
Warnings: angst, mental breakdown (panic attacks, stress, anxiety, ptsd, hallucinations, insomnia) fluff, swearing, mentions of death, mentions of injury
Word count: 3.5k (whew after tumblr DELETING this draft twice here we are folks ;-;)
requested by @mintyhuening​ 
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Xiao
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he knew you weren’t okay at all
Xiao knew the moment you locked yourself in your house
at first he thought maybe you were just temporarily feeling this way, but as the weeks passed and you hadn’t come out, he decided maybe not
coming from someone who enjoyed silence and solitude he could understand the distancing part, but it had been weeks, and even he needed socialization, so why hadn’t you come out?
you spoke to him through the door a few times, letting him know you were alright
he didn’t believe that though, sure you were alive, but not alright, he was mainly checking for confirmation to see if you were still alive while he thought of a good way to approach the situation
he didn’t want to invade your privacy, but he also hated the fact that you wouldn’t come out, not even to see him
it was lonely without you, he concluded
even for someone who enjoy solitude 
you were a careful creature, but never this careful and cautious...
were humans always like this?
eventually, he couldn’t stand it, and did find other ways to get into your house
he grew antsy after pacing outside your door for days
he found you huddled in your bed, a heap of pillows and blankets surrounding you
you were shocked to see him when he’d sat down on the foot of the bed, causing it to dip significantly 
“How did you get in?” You snapped once you saw who it was. 
“I have my ways.” He said raspily. With a huff of annoyance, you were back to facing the wall, away from the Adepti. 
“It’s dark in here.” He announced matter a factly, looking around the nearly pitch-black room, windows and doors covered by sheets and hefty duty curtains. “It’s how I like it.”
“It’s not healthy.”
“I don’t care, go away.”
Xiao was starting to grow impatient surprisingly, he truly just wanted to help, why couldn't you see that?
“Being passive is not going to help the situation, please tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing, I’m just tired.”
He worried. If he said the wrong, would you push him away even further? If he said the right thing, would you even care? Did you want help?
Xiao moved closer to you, hand going to touch your leg, although it was underneath the blankets, you felt it and did have to admit the affection was comforting.
“Don’t do this to yourself,” Xiao said. “Your friends miss you, I miss you as well.”
Maybe if you weren’t cooped up here anymore, you would start to come around. The room and house all together were very stuffy, dark, and depressing, he despised it.
“It’s beautiful outside, come with me,” he'd whispered. “At least if you don’t want to be around people, could you allow me to take you to a secluded area?”
“The fresh air will do you good.”
You were thinking about it, you had to of been if you still cared. 
“Fine, mother.” He watched with hope in his eyes as you slowly rose from the bed, and began
The outside world was very very bright at first, enough to induce a headache. But you became used to it the more you were out.
Xiao stayed true to his word like you knew he would unless you wouldn’t have come. You were taken to a very secluded area, there wasn’t even a path or road to it, just green luscious grass, and crystal core everywhere, beautiful blue and orange ones; Anemo and Geo respectively. You weren’t sure where you were, somewhere between Mondstadt and Liyue, you assumed. 
The fresh air did wonders, Xiao had noticed. You seemed to open up. Telling him a little of the problem. You had told him about how life was just stressful right now, you hadn’t taken any commissions in weeks, spoken to any of your friends Mondstadt, hence why they had come to him, accusing him of kidnapping and brainwashing you. He was offended, nonetheless let them know that wasn’t the case. 
The ever so secluded Xiao would take you out more, slowly introducing you to crowds of people, and would still take you on daily walks to that secret place you now called your special spot.
It would take a while, he knew that, and you wouldn’t be comfortable doing everything that others around you did, maybe not for a while. He could respect that, as long as you allowed him to help and encourage you.
Scaramouche
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being a harbinger was HARD, Scaramouche knew that, even if he didn’t admit it
admitting it was challenging, could lead to always being doubted or seen as incompetent. therefore, no one mentions how hard it is
he had been off doing his duties when he got news that you had lashed out at a few lower rank fatui on your team, resulting in you being called in to meet with The Tsaritsa... let's just say she went easy on you because you were one of her highest ranking soldiers, if not, she would've severely punished you
you were forced back to your sleeping quarters immediately to calm down, told to stay put until you could stop “lashing out like a child” as she had put it
you weren’t one to argue against The Tsaritsa, everyone knew that was common rule... so you walked back as calmly as you could without snapping at anyone else
when Scaramouche had heard how you acted, he was annoyed
the always so calm and calculated Y/n, lashing out at her fellow members? he couldn’t help but be annoyed, despite it being completely out of character of you
he had finished his duties relatively quick, wondering why you were acting so out of character 
when he got back, he found you in your sleeping quarters, pacing in front of the large windows near the furthest end of your room
you were still wearing your typical combat gear, though your hair disheveled and body language looking extremely anxious, he hoped it was not yours...
“What did you do this time?” Had asked the violet-eyed man, carelessly throwing his hat on your bed, lean arms folding across his chest.
No response. 
“Excuse me, I believe I asked you a question.”
A loud irritable huff.
“Be quiet for once in your life, Scaramouche.” You hissed, anxiously biting at your nails. “Sorry- I’m just trying to calm down, but my heart can’t stop racing.”
Scaramouche wasn’t the most in-touch person with his feelings, and out of all the harbingers, he was one of the more difficult ones to deal with.
Surprisingly, he had shut up, despite finding it difficult to hold his malicious comment back.  
“What’s wrong?” Your lover asked, more softly this time. 
“My mission today was... hard. I know you said it’s important for missions to just be a one and done; no hard feelings. And you know I’ve always been that way. But this one was different.” His eyebrows furrowed, his forehead creasing in annoyance. 
“I can’t help but think about what they did.” 
“Did you get what you went for? I heard you sought after information regarding that Knight, Aether.”
“Yes, but-”
“I’d call that a successful mission,” He stared intensely, casually moving to sit on the comfort of your bed. Of course, he wouldn’t take this seriously. “Any casualties?”
“None of our men, but-”
“I don’t see the problem.”
“There were children, three little children, and those idiots just slaughtered them.”
“Ah... I see.”
Despite stating he understood, he really couldn’t sympathize with what you were saying. Those children were enemies as long as they worked against The Tsaritsa. 
Your voice suddenly cut through the silence, staring directly into his eyes, “What if those were our children?”
“They weren’t.” Your eyes rolled at his comment. 
“But what if!” He rolled his eyes, mocking your previous action. 
“But they weren’t.” He mocked for a second time.  
“You’re not helping, Scaramouche!”
“You’ll never understand, unless you see what I saw,” He knew you were right to some degree, but even then would he feel bad? A mission was a mission after all.
“They were begging me to protect them, and the youngest, she would not let go of my arm and then the next thing I knew, they were dead.” You continued, left hand going to grip your right, he assumed to show him where and how the said girl had gripped you. You were still shaking, this time being closer, he noticed how bad it was. 
“They were pleading, I told them I would try my best, and then-” He had long ago stood, making himself present in front of you. His warm hands had grabbed your shaking ones harshly, ceasing the trembling momentarily. 
“Please, be quiet,” The sixth harbinger snipped. “I don’t like seeing you upset.” Although it sounded harsh, he was trying his best to make it sound how he felt, even if those feelings were minuscule towards this specific topic. 
“Although, I don’t agree with you about this particular concern of yours- I will do whatever you need to help you.”
Albedo
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now, he may just be an alchemist, but trust me, Albedo sees the signs before anyone, he has some sort of familiarity with them due to his incessant reading
and it may have taken him longer to see the signs because of how busy he was, but he saw them
he was no fool to the likes of insomnia, in fact he knew it very well, often staying up very late into the night and morning, sometimes for days at a time
he was cooped up in his lab and it wasn’t as if his body wasn’t tired, cause hell he was, there was just s much more to learn and discover, his brain WOULD not stop, 
Albedo hadn’t known how long this had been going on for, but he was seeing signs now
ngl, he didn’t notice that you hadn’t been sleeping properly until one night he decided to accompany you in bed earlier than usual (It was three a.m, yikes), and found that you were awake still
you were lying still on your side of the bed, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he reached over to kiss your cheek, only to see your eyes open, he would’ve assumed you were alright and asleep
“You’re awake?” The ashy-blonde man asked, sliding into bed next to you. 
“Can’t sleep.” You shrugged nonchalantly, scooting closer to him, seeking his warmth and comfort. 
“You should’ve come to get me, I would’ve come to bed earlier with you.”
“It’s alright, I peeked in to see if you were still alive,” You joked, he chuckled. “You seemed very busy.”
“Yes, but, I thought I told you to remind me when you need attention, I often get sidetracked and enamored with my work.”
“It’s quite alright, Albedo. As long as you’re sleeping.”
He hummed, whispering tired words of adoration in your ear. That carried on for a while, as long as talking about the day's work and whatnot, until you eventually questioned, “Can I play with your hair?” The gesture was sweet, and that did sound amazing right about now since he was on the brink of sleep, but just needed that little push. But weren’t you tired?
“Aren’t you tired?”
You sat up, climbing behind Albedo, gently placing his head in your lap. “I’ll go after you.” A soft smile adorned your beautiful face. “You need sleep, you stay up for Archon knows how long.”
He selfishly allowed his eyes to close and waited for sleep to accompany him while you began untangling his two braids and ponytail. You played with and braided his hair until he’d fallen asleep as you said. You stayed up the rest of the morning though.
Eventually, probably out of boredom, you fell asleep for an hour or two around five a.m. Though, unfortunately, you were back up before six. You busied yourself while Albedo slept, starting with cleaning his lab. Albedo often did not like people touching his books, paperwork, and findings, but after instructing you how to properly take care of his stuff, he welcomed your help with open arms, seeing as though his lab was ALWAYS in shambles from not having enough time to take care of things himself.
Albedo surprisingly woke up around nine, wavy hair surrounding him like a lion, you chuckled to yourself at the sight. “How did you sleep?”
“Alright, considering my sleep schedule is nonexistent a lot of the time.” You nodded, bumping shoulders teasingly. “How about you?” 
“Okay,” You said, immediately changing the subject. “I woke up early, so I cleaned your lab, I hope it’s to your likings, Kreideprinz.” You teased, bowing at the waist.
The alchemist waved you off, with a smile. “We’ll see about your organizational skills after you eat.” 
How had he known?
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Albedo asked, heading in the direction of the kitchen.
“That obvious.” You wondered trailing after him. 
“You always wait for me, darling.”
“You look exhausted.” Albedo’s concerned voice cut in through the smooth Mondstadt breeze. You had been so distracted with the discovery in front of you, you hadn’t realized your boyfriend was staring directly at you. “When was the last time you slept?” He glanced back down at the discovery, still listening, but if you didn’t speak soon he’d be lost in his world again.
“A day or two, but-” Albedo probably got whiplash from how hard he’d snapped his head to face you, but now he was staring at you with features reading nothing but shock, cerulean eyes blown wide.
“I think your bad sleeping schedule is contagious.” You joked, trying to make the situation lighter-hearted. He didn’t laugh. 
Albedo was more serious this time, proving it when he faced you completely. “What’s been going on?” His voice was soft, but he was extremely worried. 
Nervousness built up in his lover's body. “Nothing! I just-” You sighed. Might as well tell him the truth, he’d coerce the answer from you no matter what it took. “It’s been harder to sleep after my injury from that ruin guard. When it hit me, I banged my head against the concrete, and ever since I guess it’s been hard to sleep.” 
“You could've told me sooner. I would have stopped everything and anything for you.” Yes, that was true, that was the problem though. You didn’t want to be coddled like a baby
“I know, I’m not sure why I didn’t... Naturally, I don’t want to worry you.”
He moved closer to you so he could cradle your face in his hands. “You can always tell me anything you know that.”
“I understand that. You’re a busy man so-”
“From this moment on, my work will be dedicated to finding a cure for you.”
You panicked, not wanting to stop his work for the likes of what you were dealing with. “What? Wait no-”
“You can’t stop me, darling. You take precedence over everything.”
Albedo made it his goal to do whatever possible to help you. Whether it be spending days in his lab making concoctions in hopes of creating something that could safely aid you with sleep. Or he’s in the libraries, reading all the books on the wellness and health of humans. He’s already on top of it the minute you expressed your concerns. In the meantime, he’s going to make sure he goes to bed with you much earlier, and won’t go until you do, to ensure you’re resting.
We love sweet caretaker Albedo.
(I understand insomnia can have other causes, not just a mental or nervous breakdown, but it’s kind of implied when reader hurt her head that she’s not well.)
Childe
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Childe is simply not going to know your not well, he just won’t, it’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s more so the fact that he has a hard time paying attention to anything other than his missions and duties, he does not want to slow down
you have to show signs or tell him to realize
he decided to take a break though, seeing as he did promise you dinner tonight. he told you it would be his treat, since he did have a bunch of Mora lying around that he simply had no other use for
he figured a nice dinner and trip to one of the nicer cities with more to offer would be nice, he would buy you anything you desired
it was nearing the time for dinner though, and the reservations had already been made, so when he was left waiting, let's just say he was irked...
if you didn’t want to show up, you would’ve told him, so maybe you forgot? he concluded that couldn’t be it
the last time he’d brought it up, two days ago, you had been so excited you couldn’t sit still nor stop talking about it
asking a few people around town if you had been spotted anywhere, some said you had wandered off to Luhua Pool, something about there being a myth about special healing properties within the water
now he was even more confused
one, you NEVER went to Luhua Pool, there was never a need to do so
two, special healing properties? why would you need that? were you hurt in his absence?
you were his family, and he loved his family more than anything, so if something was wrong, he’d do whatever it took to help you
he traveled from Snezhnaya to Luhua Pool in record speed
he did find you eventually, the sun was setting, but thanks to the glowing water he could make your form out easily
you were hunched over, in what looked like to be some simple greenish cloth dress, he couldn’t see what you were doing, and called out your name
no answer
“Hey, what’re you doing here?” The orange-haired teen asked, crouching down beside his lover to see what was wrong.
“Cleaning.” You had said. That’s when his dull blue eyes traveled to what you were doing, watching with a confused stare as you scrubbed at what seemed to be clean hands.
“Hmm, I see...” He couldn’t tell if this was a prank or not, you usually played along with his teasing nature. “Are you ready for dinner?”
“Was that really today?” Your head lifted, leaving your hands to momentarily hanging in the air, water droplets dripping off into the pool.
Okay... so you did forget it seemed, which did shock him seeing as though you were over the moon, less than seventy-two hours ago.
“Uh, yeah, did you really forget? That’s unlike you! I’ve learned women don’t forget anything.” He teased, hand going to his chin. You hummed, turning back to do whatever it was you had been previously.
The harbinger frowned. “Do you still want to go? We can make it if we’re fast.” You sounded like a robot, much like a ruin guard, he concluded. 
“I’m sorry, not today, I’m dirty...”
Childe couldn’t help but chuckle, “Dirty? Sweetheart, you’re cleaner than most people I’ve seen, what’re you on about-” 
“The blood, it’s stained my hands, can’t you see?” Even after holding your hands to show him, he saw nothing resembling blood. 
“Are you playing games with me? Sure, it would’ve been funny any other day, not today though-” 
“You don’t believe me?” You sounded hurt, but whatever was going on, he wouldn’t feed into these... false hallucinations. “The townspeople said the same thing, they called me crazy...” You scrubbed even harder at your hands, letting out a frustrated huff. 
“I don’t see anything, I’m really sorry,” He said gently, reaching into the water to grasp your warm hands in his, “But if you continue to do that...I will see the blood.”
Childe was not sure what was going on, maybe some sort of PTSD? Although, he wasn’t sure where it could’ve come from... you’re not a harbinger or fatui, or anyone that is engaged in battle, etc. so it didn’t make sense. Unless something happened that decided to resurface now. 
He immediately took you home, hand in his to keep you from further scratching your hands. On the journey, you often asked, “Why are you even touching me? There’s a lot of blood.” 
He didn’t want to have to feed into whatever was going on, worried he’d damage you somehow, and he didn’t want to make you sound crazy, so instead he said, “Because I love you.”
When you both arrived home, he’d immediately laid you in bed, saying you appeared tired before going to search for a doctor.
Child will see every and all doctors in Teyvat and will pay whatever amount necessary to figure out what’s wrong, that’s for sure. Doesn’t take orders from the harbingers (not like he was anyways) and opts to stay close to you at all times. 
He decided to keep his teasing to a minimum, though he found that sometimes things slipped out accidentally, he’d do anything in his power to help you.
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1.18.21, rayofsunas 
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asciendo · 3 years
Text
Your Eyes Tell
You break up with Zuko when Ozai threatens his life if you continue with your relationship. But when you find out Ozai sends an assassin to kill him when he leaves to join team Avatar, you leave the Fire Nation to save him despite knowing how much you hurt him. 
It's been two months since you broke up with Zuko and now he's gone.
You heard from your father that Zuko switched sides and joined the Avatar. You tried to hide your concern at the dinner table as your father broke the news to your family. Your mother gave you a worried look as she always had suspicions about your relationship with the Prince.
"Ozai is furious. I don't think he's going to give Zuko another chance after this." Your father stated as you continued to fiddle with your hands. "That's his son. I don't think...do you think he'd go that far?" Your mother questioned. "I don't know...you saw what he did to Zuko after he questioned him..." Your father sighed. You tried to remain calm but you felt like your heart was beating out of your chest.
Your father was a high ranking general and was a close confidant of Ozai. Although, lately you could tell he's been questioning Ozai's methods after seeing the destruction and death he's been laying upon the other nations. Your father was loyal to the Fire Nation would do anything to protect its people, but you'd overhear him and your mother talking about how he was worried about Ozai's methods.
"He's sending an assassin after Zuko." Your gaze shot up, "WHAT?!" You blurted out. "A-are you sure?" Your mother asked and your dad nodded. "He's sending the combustion mad." You froze. He was known to be one of the most ruthless assassins in the Fire Nation. He was known to master a rare style of fire bending that allows him to trigger explosions from a tattoo on his forehead. "I'm not feeling well...can I go to my room?" You asked and your father nodded leaving your mother with a concerned look in her eyes as you left.
As soon as you entered your room you fell to the floor and cried. You hated this. You hated yourself for breaking up with Zuko but you had no choice.
It was two months ago and you were walking around the palace. Thanks to your father's close relationship with the Fire Lord, you spent your whole life within the palace walls. You grew up with Azula and Zuko and your families were close as well. It wasn't until Zuko returned from his banishment that the both of you began your relationship but decided to keep it a secret as he still had a lot to prove to his father. Zuko wanted to prove he was focused and determined and if Ozai found out he was seeing you, Zuko would be right back where he started before leaving to capture the Avatar.
Unfortunately, your fears came true and Ozai discovered your secret relationship. You were on your way home after sneaking into Zuko's room and as you made your way to the throne room until you heard voices. You recognized one to be Ozai's and the other Azula's.
"Your brother appears to be distracted these days." Ozai's voice boomed throughout the room. " Well it's because he's with his little girlfriend most of the time." Azula replied
"Girlfriend?!" Ozai fires back and you gulp. "Yes, your favorite general's daughter." There was a hint of disgust in Azula's voice which made your blood boil. Despite being "friends" with Azula, it was obvious she looked down on you along with Mai and Tai Lee.
"First, Zuko questions me, now he's frolicking with that girl instead of focusing on his duties as Fire Prince." Ozai growls and you heard his footsteps walk back and forth as he paced around his throne. "He has to be taught a lesson that boy."
"I couldn't agree more, father." You could almost see the smirk on Azula's face at the tone of her voice. "I wonder...does Zuko really need his other eye?" Your heart dropped. His father was about to punish Zuko again...because of you. Your memory shot back to the moment Ozai burned Zuko's face in their Agni Kai. You remember burying your face in your hands while trying to shut out Zuko's screams. .
"Bring him here." Ozai commanded. You don't know what came over you, but you found yourself running into the throne room.
Azula and Ozai both stared at you and Azula chuckled. "Don't hurt him." You were surprised at your own voice coming out. "And why shouldn't I? He's being careless and has to be taught a lesson."
"I'll end it." Your voice shook as you were being stared down by the two of them. "Would that even do anything?" Azula rolled her eyes as she lazily observed her fingers.
"It will. You'll see...it was my idea to start a relationship. Not his. If you're going to punish someone...punish me." Azula raised an eyebrow at your suggestion and looked towards Ozai who began to think.
"Not necessary." Ozai stated and Azula frowned. "Your father is an important ally of mine, wouldn't want to upset him."
The room fell silent as the three of you stared at one another. "I suppose...if you end your relationship with my son...that will do for now." Your shoulders dropped in relief.
"But, I don't care if you're together or not, if he upsets me in any way again I won't hold back." Ozai turned his back and left the room. Azula smirked at you and followed him out.
You were lying in bed that night and couldn't sleep. Your mind was racing with thoughts of Zuko and how you were going to end it. You heard the window open and the sound of familiar footsteps making its way to your bed.
Before Zuko could slip in next to you, you immediately turned away from him.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he chuckled but you refused to answer.
"I don't need you anymore." You spat out and he stammered back. "What do you mean you don't need me anymore?!"
You buried your head in your covers, trying not to look at him. "I mean, I don't need you anymore, Zuko. I'm done."
"Done?! W-what do you mean done—did something happen?" you heard his footsteps come over to your side of the bed and you huffed.
He lifted the covers over your face and you had no choice but to look at him.
Zuko's eyes were a mixture of sadness and confusion and you chocked out a sob. He slowly brought his hands to your face, but you swatted it. Knowing exactly what to say to get him to leave, to leave you for good. "I can't be with a coward." Zuko stumbled back after this. You knew about his never-ending torment about betraying Iroh out of fear of his father. How he barely slept every night thinking about his uncle sitting in his cell, about how he was scared to do the right thing because he would lose his honor in his family again. "W-what?" Zuko was farther from you now, sad eyes staring into your like daggers. You were fighting the urge to break right there, tell him everything you knew about his father's warning, but you had to protect him. "You left Iroh to rot in a cell. You can't even stand up against your father and you're a disgrace to the Fire Nation. What kind of future is that?" You said coldly, biting your tongue to fight back the tears that were fighting to come out. "
"Do you really mean it?" His voice broke and you were dying to apologize to him, to tell him you thought he was so much more than what he thought of himself, that he was one of the few genuinely good people here, but you had to do this to protect him.
"Yes. I hate you, Zuko...I didn't realize it till now but...I'm embarrassed of you. Being with you...makes me hate myself too." You stated, face blank. Zuko's face dropped. You've never seen him like this, so empty, like he lost all the hope he had in the world. You wanted to reach out to him, you did...but he was gone before you could.
You'd see him in State events but never spoke, and the one time he had to greet you out of courtesy it was like he was talking to a stranger.
Now, here you are somewhere in the forest, looking for him. You heard from one of the guards who was loyal to you that combustion man was able to track Team Avatar near the mountains next to the refugee camps. He told you that he got his scent and was close by.
You heard voices and crouched by the bush. You saw a figure by the river and crawled closer to see who it was. It was a girl, probably your age dressed in blue who was doing laundry. This must be the water bender you thought. Mai and Ty Lee would tell you stories about their time chasing the Avatar and reuniting with Zuko.
Deciding to confront her and ask where Zuko was you began to walk towards her. Her shoulders tensed at the sound of footsteps behind. The girl whipped her head around and her eyes grew wide. Before you could speak, she was shooting water in your direction. "HEY!" You dodged, but she kept going. Grunting in frustration, you began shooting fire back at her.
You were fighting for a while now until suddenly, a boomerang was flying next to your head which caused you to duck.
There was a boy in blue running towards you with a smaller girl in green running next to him.
The girl stomped her foot on the ground and rocks in the shape of bars began to form around you but you were able to roll out of the way. The water bender was about to attack once more but then you heard your name being called behind you.
"Y/N?" You froze and your heart dropped. You haven't heard Zuko's voice in so long and you swore you almost crumbled right there. Slowly, you turned around and faced him for the first time in months. "W-what are you doing here?" he asked, and you couldn't answer. The Avatar arrived and the whole group was staring at you.
You couldn't speak. You didn't know what to say to him and time just stopped. Your eyes never left Zuko and he was staring right back at you.
"Who is she?!" The water bender asked as you and Zuko continued to look at each other.
"Y/N." Was all Zuko said which caused everyone to look at one another in confusion except the guy with the boomerang. "Oh...is she the one you were telling me about?" Zuko blushed in embarrassment but walked towards you.
"I'm sorry, I'm lost...who is she?" The Avatar asked.
"Zuko's ex-girlfriend." Boomerang guy attempted to whisper but failed as everyone heard him. The water bender stared at you curiously while the earth bender huffed and stuck up her nose.
"What are you doing here, Y/N?" Zuko was in front of you now and your heartbeat was rising. You missed him. All you wanted was to kiss him right then and there, but you knew whatever you two had was over. Before you could reply, you saw a figure suddenly appear behind Zuko. The rest of the team was too busy waiting what would happen that they didn't notice combustion man's arrival.
Combustion man's eyes turned red and he smirked, the eye in the middle of his head started to glow and you knew he was about to attack.
"LOOK OUT!" You shouted and shoved Zuko to the side before Combustion man could strike.
The rest of the group were on the floor from the explosion except the Avatar who was on a tree.
"WHO IS THAT?!" Boomerang guy yelled above the explosion.
Looking down, you realized you fell on top of Zuko. Your eyes met his and you noticed his expression change to somewhat of realization. He looked like he was putting the pieces of a puzzle together while looking at you and he was frozen. Combustion Man tried to attack Zuko again but you pulled him away.
"WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" Boomerang guy yelled once more. Spotting the boomerang attached to his waist, you created a plan.
"AVATAR!" You yelled and he looked down at you from the tree. "Distract him!" He looked at you with confusion. You realized they didn't trust you yet, still being in your Fire Nation clothes, they still weren't sure what side you were on. "Come on! Do it!" You yelled and he nodded.
"BOOMERANG GUY!" You shouted once more and he looked at you in fear. "When the Avatar has him distracted, throw your boomerang at the eye on his forehead, it will block his chi."
"Why should I listen to you?! You were just attacking my sister!" he yelled back. "GOSH SOKKA JUST DO IT! THIS IS NOT THE TIME!" The earth bender yelled and Sokka jumped back in shock. "ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!"
The Avatar shot an air ball at Combustion Man which caused him to stumble. While he was caught off guard, Sokka threw his boomerang hitting him directly on the eye.
Combustion Man grunted in pain but suddenly lost control and shot an explosion to the nearby mountain. Suddenly the rocks began to shake and immediately rolled down the mountain and crushed him.
The whole group sighed but Zuko was still looking at you. Suddenly, you felt rock squeeze around your wrists. Looking down, your wrists were bound in handcuffs made of rocks.
"Seriously?! I just saved your lives!" You yelled but the group continued to stare at you. "Yeah, but you were attacking Katara when we got here." The earth bender stated.
"SHE ATTACKED ME FIRST!" But they weren't having it. You looked at Zuko and his expression changed. He looked deep in thought as he stared back at you.
"Come on...just let me go and I'll be out of here." You whispered still looking at him. "We still don't know why you're here. You could be a spy." You rolled your eyes at the small girl.
"If I as a spy I would have let you all be killed by Combustion Man." You stated.
"That makes sense..." Katara nodded slowly but earth bender was still not having it.
"Still. It's risky to let you go, you're coming with us." She announced and began to walk away. Sokka grabbed your elbow and began to lead you behind her.
Zuko wasn't moving for a moment, watching the scene unfold like it was a movie. "Zuko...are you coming?" The Avatar asked. Zuko nodded slowly began to follow.
The earth bender, who you learned was called Toph made you a makeshift cell in their campsite. Rolling your eyes as you watched them enter their tents to go to bed, you sunk down and sat on the ground.
You started to drift off to sleep until you heard the door of your cell open. Slowly opening your eyes, you look up to see Zuko.
Your lips part in surprise as you slowly stand up to stare at him.
"What do you want?" You finally gained the courage to speak to him.
The Zuko in front of you is a different one than the one you left. The broken Zuko. The Zuko you hurt. Now, all you see are his golden eyes pouring into yours, mixed with anger and determination.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his tone was serious.
"Your friends put me in here! I don't wanna stay in this dumb cell—"
"No. Why are you here?!" He almost yelled at you, but he kept his voice low enough so he wouldn't wake the others.
"I don't know what you mean—"
"Bull Shit." Zuko interrupted but moved closer to you. "I don't know what you want me to say—"
"Do you still hate me?" His question caught you off guard. Unlike last time, there was no sadness in his voice, now, it felt like he was challenging you.
"Zuko—"
"Did you come here to protect me? I know you knew about Combustion Man." You looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. You didn't know why you were being so difficult. It wasn't like Ozai or Azula were here. But you felt immense guilt for what you said to him, you didn't deserve him.
"When you broke up with me...there was something else right? You were just saying all of those things to protect me?!" Zuko was angry. He had every right to be, for you to just show up here, and not even telling him the real reason why you came.
"I'm not stupid, alright? I know combustion man is an assassin under my father! I know he was here to kill me...and after everything, you show up out of nowhere...I know you were here for me!" He was yelling now but you refused to budge.
"You made me think all this time you hated me! I thought the person I loved the most in this world hated me! For months I couldn't get you out of my head and it was torture seeing you around the palace looking like you didn't care! And you won't even tell me the real reason why you're here?" You looked at him in shock but still refused to speak and he shouted in frustration.
"Y/N...tell me right now why you're here—"
"Yes. I still hate you." Was all you said. You didn't though. You loved him. You were so proud of him for finally standing up to his father and carving his own destiny, but you didn't want to cause him anymore pain. You wanted him to continue being the man he was meant to be...even without you. You felt like you would bring him down, that you didn't deserve Zuko. You wanted to leave, to finally leave him, for good.
"No you don't." His voice was hard and his eyes didn't leave yours. "Zuko, what do you want from me?" You asked and he sighed.
"Do you really hate me?" He asked once more but he took a step closer to you and you backed away.
"YES! God, Zuko I don't know how many times I have to tell you! I hate—"
Before you could finish, Zuko's lips were on yours. Your eyes widened in surprise but as soon as his arms snaked around your waist, you melted around him.
You missed this. The feeling of his lips on yours. His touch. The way he clung to you like his life depended on it.
"No you don't." Was all he said when he pulled away. You were out of breath, and you looked up at him. The hard expression he had was replaced with tender eyes and you felt tears forming.
"H-how'd you know?" Your voice cracked as Zuko began to gently wipe the tears on your face.
"Your eyes tell." Was all he said and before you could speak, his lips were on yours again.
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